Eights and Aces
by KarotsaMused
Summary: COMPLETE! AU - Sanzo's a rich brat, Goku's his butler-cum-bodyguard, Kanzeon Bosatsu's the benefactress...and a redheaded upstart shatters their wonderful little system
1. The Library

A/N: Disclaimer: Saiyuki isn't mine. Nor is Will and Grace - I stole the idea from it, yeah, I'm sorry. Not really.  
  
I'd like to welcome you to a not-entirely-serious-at-times AU fic. Here, Sanzo is seventeen, Gonou is seventeen, Goku is about sixteen, Kanan is alive, and Gojyo's got an interesting occupation. I can't reveal that just yet. Basically, the story revolves around Sanzo, Gonou, and Gojyo, as a series of events brings them together in an unexpected way. I haven't read a fic like this and I'm surprised nobody else ever thought up the idea.  
  
Warnings: Language, minor violence (to show up in later chapters), episode spoilers (as if that wasn't obvious - Hakkai's Gonou for this, for pete's sake!), underage smoking (oops...), other shades of illegality - but hey, this is Saiyuki!  
  
Pairings: I can't reveal the main one just yet because I love a good surprise; but if you want a clue, think to episode 7. A little anemia never hurt. The others are your standard blink-and-miss 3x9, 5x8, but only if you -really- want to see them. (they may either fade or become more prominent, depending on my mood as this thing progresses)  
  
Enough of that, if you even read this. I'll explain the title later, but if you want to take a guess now go ahead - I'm curious to see who knows their wild west history. Reviews welcomed ^.^ tell me if I suck!  
  
***  
  
"Oi, Sanzo, wait a minute, will you?"  
  
Sanzo blinked lazily and kept walking, refusing to acknowledge the call. She caught up with him anyway; she always did.  
  
Her cheeks were flushed with the frigid air and the pretty rosiness that always made her face glow. Her hair, burnished copper curls fresh like fire against the snow-laden landscape, wrapped itself about her neck, a surrogate scarf. She grinned at him when he refused to look down at her, knowing he could tell.  
  
"You never wait," she said jovially, just another part of the conversation. As that statement faded into silence, she launched into an account of everything she'd seen since she last spoke to him. The stream was steady, high-pitched, and utterly inane. He let her talk because it was too much work to shut her up.  
  
As she droned on about useless things, gossiping happily like any well-adjusted teenage girl, Sanzo thought to himself, wondering what excuse he could make to sneak over to Gonou's instead of heading home. He shuffled his backpack on his shoulder, drew a pack of cigarettes from his front pocket, and lit up.  
  
His companion let out an indignant squeal. "Sanzo, those are going to -kill- you!"  
  
He shrugged, holding the fag at his side so the smoke blew away from her. "Let them." He exhaled so his own clean breath looked like smoke against the air. "Oi, Lirin..."  
  
"Mm?" She stumbled a little, her bare legs uncomfortably exposed in this weather. She put her brightly-mittened hands out for balance, catching at Sanzo's sleeve until her numb legs steadied under her.  
  
He shrugged her off. "Stop off at my place and send word in I'm going to the library." He glanced down sideways at her, one eyebrow quirked. She grinned at him and nodded, her curls bouncing emphatically. She knew his code words well enough.  
  
Breaking away from Lirin at the next corner, Sanzo was left to walk by himself. He knew the way to the Cho household by heart, having gone there more often than anywhere else to wile away empty afternoons and find solace on painful nights.  
  
Cho Gonou was not what society would call Sanzo's "type of people." But they got along well enough. Gonou's parents died shortly after his birth and he was transferred from orphanage to orphanage, scraping out his own education as he went. He got accepted into Sanzo's private school because of his exemplary mind and incredible determination. He befriended Sanzo merely because he never did anything to disturb him. His almost apologetic manner and easy smile made him easy to tread all over. And yet, he mattered enough that Sanzo wouldn't.  
  
When Sanzo made his way down Gonou's block, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, a flimsy, school-issued thing, and quickened his pace. Gonou had one neighbor that often stared at Sanzo when he walked by. He hated that man's face, the blatant amusement on his cold features. He didn't even spare a glance to the house, heading instead for Gonou's stoop and the solace it promised.  
  
He knocked, wincing at the pain that shot down his frozen fingers upon impact, and waited for the door to open.  
  
When it did, a sweet-faced young woman smiled at him in weary recognition. "Hello, Sanzo," she greeted, ushering him inside and taking his backpack from him.  
  
He kicked off his wet shoes as she called, "Gonou! Guess who's in?" Distractedly, she grabbed the two pencils that had before been shoved behind her ear at the same time she scooped a rather hyperactive white pug into her arms. The pug, called Hakuryuu, grinned at Sanzo as his tongue lolled out of thick, black lips. His bright, auburn eyes focused on him and his little curled tail wagged. He launched himself out of the arms that held him and Sanzo was forced to catch the little pug before he cracked his skull on the hardwood.  
  
Hakuryuu licked the end of Sanzo's nose, exhaling hot puppy breath into his face. He grimaced and held the dog away, causing it to squirm in its attempts to get back at his face. A pair of hands removed the pug from Sanzo's arms, accompanied with a pleasant laugh.  
  
"I'm here, Kanan." He pecked her on the cheek, adding, "You ought to take a break from studying so hard."  
  
Kanan smiled wearily. "When I'm done with school, you'll do enough studying for the both of us. But I'm getting a better job for you if it kills me."  
  
"That's what I'm afraid of." Setting Hakuryuu back on the ground, Gonou rubbed Kanan's shoulder. "Don't push yourself too hard. I'm not too bad at helping out." He smiled at her and she smiled back, though it was tired. She excused herself and retired to the kitchen and her spread of books over the counter.  
  
Gonou smiled after her. "I'm not worth her, really." He glanced over to Sanzo and said, "What can I do for you?"  
  
Sanzo chewed his bottom lip. He really didn't know. He just didn't want to go back...there. Ever since he'd come to live with his aunt, he'd been unused to the opulence she provided. Without anyone familiar around, the house was too huge, too lavish, too empty. It was an aloneness past loneliness that Sanzo didn't really want to be in.  
  
Gonou saved him. "I think you've got some clothes here, if you're sick of the uniform," he suggested, motioning to the ice crystals slowly melting from the hems of Sanzo's tan slacks.  
  
He nodded mutely and climbed the stairs, slipping into Gonou's room. It was a small place, like the rest of the house, and inside of it he had crammed his essence, so there was no doubt that this was his niche. He shrugged out of his wet clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor, and pulled on some ratty jeans and one of Gonou's button-up shirts. He never left clothes at Gonou's, but they were there for him all the same.  
  
When Gonou had been accepted to private school, he had no family. He was going to become a ward of the state, when Kanan came to him. Sanzo was fuzzy on the details, but she had taken him in as her own and given him a home. As a result, she was forced to work two jobs to support the two of them. Gonou brought in his own money by tutoring some students, but they were by no means well off.  
  
"Can you believe she's taking early-morning classes now, too?"  
  
Sanzo turned and, running his hand through his hair, found Gonou leaning in the doorframe.  
  
"She wants to get a better job so she's only got to have one. Waitressing and bartending are getting hard on her." He smiled a little and added, "You'll have to hang those up unless you want to walk to the Laundromat."  
  
Sanzo shrugged and went to the bathroom, tossing his pants, shirt, and jacket over the towel rack.  
  
"Maybe I should stop coming here," he said.  
  
Gonou cocked his head. "Afraid of imposing upon us? What brought this on after three years?" He laughed, taking off his glasses and wiping them on his shirt. His clear, green eyes shone under the harsh fluorescent lighting of the bathroom. "We like you to come. I'd worry if you stopped."  
  
Sanzo nodded. And that was it.  
  
*  
  
When Sanzo left, some hours later, Gonou offered to drive him home.  
  
"If that were the point, I would have hitched a ride with you here in the first place."  
  
Gonou nodded, waved, and said, "I've always got to ask." He shut Sanzo outside with that, returning to the warmth of the kitchen to help Kanan prepare their dinner.   
  
Sanzo glanced over at Gonou's car, a deathtrap he repaired with his own hands after salvaging it from the scrap heap. Even if he had wanted to get home quickly, he would have preferred running to that thing. It really wasn't so far to his own home, and his uniform was warm over him, fresh from the radiator in the bathroom. He didn't know how long he'd been out, didn't care how long, but he knew asking Kanan to feed him as well as Gonou and herself was too much. They were a small solace that he couldn't afford to offend or exploit.  
  
As he passed the house that sent a shiver down his spine, the porch light flicked on. The proprietor stood there, slim and feral, watching him walk by. He grinned when Sanzo made eye contact, but did nothing to step off the stoop. "See you tomorrow," he said softly, just on the edge of Sanzo's hearing, but the phrase sent his gut plummeting to his knees. His fists shook in suppressed rage, but he kept walking, his backpack over his shoulders a heavy reminder of where he was supposed to be. He steadied his pace as he came into the area where the houses were further apart, sprawling over lots that grew continually larger until he came to the gate he was trained to see as his own.  
  
He buzzed himself into the compound, ticking off the code with pale, slim fingers and sliding through the gate as soon as it opened. He knew the security cameras followed him, but was used to the feeling. After four years, they just didn't bother him like they used to.  
  
When the front doors were opened for him, a young servant came to his side. "Sir, I passed Miss Lirin's message on to your aunt. She expects you to dinner now that you're in."  
  
Sanzo frowned down at the boy, a security guard-cum-butler in training by the name of Son Goku, and said, "I'm not hungry." Before the boy could recover from his clipped tone, he got himself to the stairwell that led to his room. The house was dark, but his legs knew the steps and he got into his room with only a minor scrape with the newest marble statue to grace the second landing of the stairs.  
  
Unlike Gonou's room, there were very few hints of Sanzo's personality in this place. Someone else made the bed every day, the laundry was taken out every week, and the floors were vacuumed on alternate days. Having so many people go in and out of his room left him disinclined to reveal more about himself than they should have to endeavor to find out on their own.  
  
A soft, mannered knock came just as he dropped his backpack on the floor. "She insists you come down, sir," Goku said, his voice muffled by the door. Sanzo frowned and tossed his discarded jacket onto his bed. "There's an important matter she wants to discuss."  
  
Sanzo yanked the door open and found his collarbone half in Goku's open mouth. "Fine," he muttered, shoving past the boy and tromping down the stairs. Absently, he loosened his collar and rolled the sleeves of his white shirt up to his elbows.  
  
The house itself was one of the largest in the set of lots of the area. Sanzo's personal stairwell led to his room and a bathroom, and four other separate ones led to bedrooms or offices, each with either bathrooms or balconies or both. The downstairs was an open space with each room leading into another and another, from a foyer to a den to a recreational facility equipped with two billiard tables and better hardware than most arcades. From there, a fully stocked bar joined the rec room with the back porch complete with a pool, a spa, and a barbecue pit. If at the foyer one took a right instead of a left turn, a second den greeted them, and that led to a dining room and a kitchen. The kitchen connected to the porch on the far side of the barbecue pit, so the house was an effective circle. The floors were marble or hardwood, never carpet, so Sanzo's socked feet were tense to keep a purchase on the polish. This was a house for entertaining, not for raising a child.  
  
Sanzo had been thirteen when his parents died, victims of a bank robbery gone horribly wrong when the driver of the getaway car decided to get drunk and then wondered what his buddies were taking so long for. The sedan plowed through the front of the building, effectively flattening both of his parents as they emptied their pockets. The gun pointed at his father's head before the crash went off in the holder's hand, blowing his face into fragments. So mauled was Sanzo's father that he had to be identified by his dental records and DNA. His mother died before the paramedics even arrived. Sanzo had been at school at the time, a large public establishment just like everyone else.  
  
When he got home, he was swept into the arms of a woman he hardly recognized that professed to be his aunt. Lawyers whipped the will in and out of his vision; he dimly remembered signing something. This aunt happened to have a grandfather that made an insane amount of money in the Stock Market, pulled it out a few months before Black Tuesday in 1929, and sat on his fortune as if it didn't exist, living middle-class in a time where there were only the extremely poor and the unfathomably rich. As he put it in banks that were increasingly more reliable, avoiding the Stock Market, not wanting to risk his luck running out, the interest collected. And such interest exploded, leaving at least three generations' worth of wealth at the time of his death. Suddenly, this was at Sanzo's fingertips. Within reason.  
  
He padded into the second den, noting the lack of food-smell that should be emanating from the dining room. The space was open, walled on one side by paneled windows with prism edges to create rainbows when the sun shined, and warmed by twin fireplaces. They provided the only light aside from starlight and the quarter moon. He found her on the sofa. She had grown two heads.  
  
"Who's that?" Sanzo asked as he took a seat on the raised hearth of one of the fireplaces. The fire came close enough to make him uncomfortably warm, but he did not move. The light behind him left his face in comparable shadow.  
  
From his position, he could see her perfectly. Her thick, dark hair was pulled into a tail at the back of her head, though the tendrils that framed her widow's peak and hung about her ears were steel gray at the roots. Her bright, cold eyes were derisively wizened, though she did everything in her power to keep the rest of her face looking as youthful as possible. She smiled at him, a familiar quirk on her painted lips. She found her nephew amusing more often than not. Sanzo was used to her looks, but something about her was different. She was acting more affectionate than she had been in nearly four years.  
  
The person on the couch with her was a dark-skinned man. He grinned lazily at Sanzo, scarlet eyes glinting in the firelight as his young, lean fingers tangled with hers. A jeweled ring glinted from his middle finger, shining like liquid in the clarity of the specimens upon it. He couldn't have been more than a few years older than Sanzo himself, who had just recently turned seventeen that November.  
  
"Sanzo, this is Sha Gojyo." 


	2. Snow Angel

A/N: A haiku:  
  
My inbox is empty  
  
The dearth of reviews pains me  
  
Please stroke my ego  
  
And that's all I have to say about that ^.^ So anyway, now you know the main pairing for this fic. Squicked, anyone? Sorry, but that's how the idea came about. There -will- be other relationships to alleviate the mental images that may be bombarding you after having read the first chapter. I apologize for any trauma suffered.  
  
Oh, and if there's any question about it, the canon-hermaphrodite is now -all- woman. Hooray for AU ^.^  
  
***  
  
Gojyo sat up straighter and extended a hand to Sanzo. It was ignored. He tried for a little conversation. "Sanzo, huh? Interesting name."  
  
"So's Gojyo," Sanzo spat.  
  
His aunt shot him a half-irked glare and said, "He's named for his father. I have no idea how many Sanzos run in the family line."  
  
Gojyo nodded. "May you live up to it, kid."  
  
Sanzo looked straight into Gojyo's face for the first time, and atoms sizzled before his violet eyes. "Who you bring in isn't my business," the boy sneered, never taking his eyes from Gojyo's face. The man's expression did not change. "I know what he's here for."  
  
"I'm not trying to replace anyone," his aunt started, making no move toward him. "You do understand that."  
  
Sanzo shook his head. "You're trying to replace your vibrator. Just keep away from me. Do what you like."  
  
Gojyo raised an eyebrow and looked back to the woman at his side. She appeared unfazed. "Gojyo's living here starting tomorrow. If you don't want to help him move in, that's fine."  
  
Sanzo stared at her for a second, clenched his fists, and stalked away without another word. He hadn't been in the mood for dinner anyway.  
  
*  
  
Sanzo lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, slowly calming down. He was still seething at having this strange person come into a house he realized he regarded as his own. Already he disliked this Gojyo, this blunt and ugly person that had spoken of his father without ever, ever knowing him.  
  
"Pervert, hanging around with a woman more than twice his age. He just wants her money, that's all he wants." Sanzo chewed at his bottom lip until it bled and he realized what he was doing. He made a small, frustrated noise, pulled his cigarettes out of his jacket pocket, and thrust himself halfway out one of his windows to smoke.  
  
December was freezing even during midday, and at night the temperature plummeted like lead in water. Sanzo shivered as he smoked, but he needed the nicotine. His fingers numbed against his raw cheeks and reddening nose, but he stayed half out the window until the cigarette disappeared. He pitched the butt into a nearby fountain.  
  
Pulling himself back inside, he heard a knock at his door.  
  
"What?" he snapped, not moving to open it.  
  
"Dinner, sir. I've brought it up." Goku, talking through the barrier of varnished wood.  
  
"I don't want it."  
  
"It's out here if you should change your mind, sir."  
  
"I won't."  
  
Sanzo half-expected a reply, and when none came, he opened the door. The darkened corridor was all that met him, and the tantalizing smell of hot food wafting from a handsome tray set before his door. He poked his head out of his room, glanced around, and saw no witnesses. The tray disappeared inside his room.  
  
Goku, from his place in the shadows, shared with himself a small, secret smile.  
  
*  
  
Sanzo woke late in the day, thankful for the leisure of a Saturday morning. He sat up and ran his fingers through his hair, catching tangles with his nails. The day was gorgeous, sun glinting off of the snow like so many diamonds. He looked past the glow and saw someone collapse into the powder, flailing and laughing, until his body formed an angel.  
  
Gojyo sat up and admired his work, then grabbed the hand of Sanzo's aunt and spun her. They danced over the packed snow of his angel like old friends. Sanzo watched them, trying to believe the dream until he caught himself. He frowned and made his way to his bathroom, ready for a hot shower to clear his head.  
  
*  
  
His hair was still damp when he ventured downstairs. Gojyo nodded at him, a couple of suitcases hanging at the ends of his lanky arms. "Lead the way, Kanzeon," he called to Sanzo's aunt.  
  
She swept into the house, kicking snow from her shoes as she came. "Oh, that sounds so stuffy, doesn't it?" she asked, twirling the ends of Gojyo's hair between her fingers.  
  
Gojyo grinned at her. "Shall I call you Candy, my sweet?"  
  
Sanzo closed his eyes, but the sounds of their fawning and incessant lovey kisses made him sick to his stomach. The sugar was enough to rot the teeth from his head, and yet they showed no inclination of stopping out of deference to their beleaguered witness.  
  
Sanzo slipped past them and headed for the kitchen to snag the remnants of that morning's coffee. He met Goku inside. The boy stepped back out of deference, but fidgeted.  
  
"What?" Sanzo snapped harshly, pouring the dregs into a mug and putting the mug in the microwave.   
  
"You changed your mind, sir," Goku replied.  
  
Sanzo rolled his eyes as he grabbed the freshly steaming mug of coffee out of the microwave. "So I did. I'm glad I vindicated someone today." He took a sip of coffee and watched as the boy smiled at him, not noticing his acerbic sarcasm. "What are you doing?" he asked irritably.  
  
Goku jumped a little. "Oh, I was just...um..."  
  
Sanzo sighed and dramatically covered his eyes. Goku smiled again and pulled an apple from the fruit basket on the counter. "Say you were getting one for me, too, if anyone asks," Sanzo said. Goku nodded emphatically, ready to fall into the friendly lie. "I assume you're a better guard than servant," Sanzo muttered.  
  
Goku nodded again. "Yeah, I was hired to be a bodyguard, sir, but I don't see why." He swallowed a mouthful of apple and continued, "I've been here almost four years and I haven't fobbed off anything more formidable than that one drunken bum a few years back."  
  
"Four years, huh?" Sanzo muttered to himself, knowing his aunt's logic and suddenly realizing it was Goku that spent the most time with him out of all of the hired hands. He could only speculate as to why. Meanwhile, Goku kept talking.  
  
"Yes, sir. And I'm still not very good at this butlering thing." He smiled shyly at his apple. "I never got told how."  
  
Sanzo rubbed his forehead, tempted to chug the entire mug of coffee in his hands. "Just do what's asked of you and come when you're called. The rest is obedience." He shrugged, really just guessing according to what he'd seen. And yet, Goku looked relieved.  
  
"Okay. Thank you. Um, Sir."  
  
Sanzo closed his eyes. "Don't call me 'sir.'"  
  
Goku's jaw dropped at an obvious infraction of butler protocol. "But, sir..."  
  
One violet eye opened in warning. "Don't." He walked past Goku, setting the mug by the sink though it was still half full. Goku tossed the apple core into the garbage and grinned.  
  
*  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
"Out."  
  
"Don't be late."  
  
Sanzo shrugged and pulled his good coat on, twice as warm and infinitely better made than his school-issue jacket. It was fine treated leather, black against his pale skin. His face was left unprotected in the air, and the translucency of his body lent a certain rawness to his nose, cheeks, and lips. He developed a glowing rosiness close to sick coloration, but exhilarated. He was glad to be out of the house suddenly made too small by Gojyo's infringing charisma. He was glad to be alone in the cold, the dry chill that forced an alertness to senses dulled by the warm. He could smell the trees as they hibernated, dark and dust-dry. He could see the nuances of blue in the clear sky, where it darkened above his head as opposed to the lightness nearer the horizon where the light curved. Most of all, he could hear the secret, quiet rustlings of animals against the stark, white silence of the snow. Even this dead landscape was vibrantly alive, and if they could weather this storm, Sanzo had nothing to worry about.  
  
He just walked, his hands in his pockets and his head in the clouds, not even thinking but going through the motions until his feet took him past Gonou's block. He didn't want to turn down that street, didn't want to pass the mismatched eyes that watched him from behind dusty blinders and knew his name. He didn't want to subject his body to that scrutiny, like heavy hands pawing at his skin, when he knew Gonou was at the library, tutoring classmates for ten bucks an hour. There was no point to it, so he kept walking.  
  
He didn't know how long he walked, but he came to himself when someone cried out to him. "Sanzo? Sanzo!" A flurry of orange curls dove at him from across the street. "Hey, what are you doing all the way out here?"  
  
Sanzo sidestepped so Lirin's questing hands connected only with his arm, but she clung to him nonetheless. "Walking," he answered, not caring to say more.  
  
"Really? Well, hey, I'll walk with you as far as my house. How's that sound?"  
  
Sanzo shrugged. "Do what you like." He kept his pace and Lirin fell into step with him, humming softly.  
  
"You know, I went out to just walk, too. It's nice to walk when it's cold out. But I've got to get back before onii-chan starts worrying." She paused. "Well, I don't know if he'd -worry-, so to speak, but he'll get mad..."  
  
Sanzo walked with her, letting her chatter because it filled the silence. He didn't have to speak, didn't have to think, when he was with Lirin. She was a solace of sorts, like Gonou, except Gonou was the listener in their relationship. He relied upon Lirin to cloud his mind with her words, her useless words that made everything a little easier to swallow on hard days. Lirin loved him because he often heard everything she had to say - only shutting her up on days when he was in a particularly good mood - and the bruises were always worth a reliable ear.  
  
They reached Lirin's place, a handsome brick building with a fresh paint job on door and shutters, at the same time a burly man stepped outside.  
  
"Oh, Lirin, there you are. Better go inside - Kou's had an interesting morning. I've got to get some stuff back from next door."  
  
Lirin raised her eyebrows. "Nii took my rabbit again?!"  
  
The man gave a pained expression, clenching his teeth. "And the extension cord. If you'll excuse me..."  
  
"Good luck!" she called. "Hey, d'you want to come in, Sanzo?" she asked back to the blonde. Sanzo had stepped aside as a good two-hundred-and-something pounds of muscle barreled down the sidewalk, and he looked back up at her. "Come on, Sanzo! You can walk all day."  
  
Sanzo shook his head, but followed her. It was warm inside, and he had long ago lost feeling in his facial features. The instant he stepped inside, he was too warm for comfort. But he didn't dare take off his jacket. The interior was cramped, but it rang with homey chaos nonetheless. Lirin pulled off her boots, mittens, and jacket, heralding her own entrance.  
  
"Yaone! Onii-chan! I'm home! Come out and meet somebody!"  
  
Sanzo stuffed his hands into his pockets and wondered why he'd ever followed Lirin up the steps. The first person to emerge was a frazzled-looking young woman with pleasant eyes that put Sanzo in the mind of Gonou.  
  
"Yaone, this is Sanzo. He's from my school," Lirin introduced, beaming up at Sanzo. He offered a hand and Yaone took it, affecting a smile.  
  
"Nice to meet you," he said, and she echoed the sentiment.  
  
"Lirin, this may not be the best time..."  
  
"Why?"  
  
The door burst open and Yaone cried, "Dokugakuji! You're letting the cold in!"  
  
The burly man Sanzo had nearly collided with earlier gave a sheepish grin. "I got the extension cord." He pulled a stuffed animal from behind his back and presented it to Lirin. "And Sniffles, too."  
  
Yaone shook her head. "I swear, that man and his odd fetishes. I'd suggest we move, but Kougaiji would absolutely have a conniption."  
  
Lirin tugged at Dokugakuji's sleeve, setting the stuffed bunny down by her shoes. "Hey, Doku, meet Sanzo. He's from my school."  
  
Again Sanzo presented his hand and Dokugakuji's thick palm enveloped his fingers even before his fist closed. The meaty handshake was frigid, but friendly enough.  
  
"Where's onii-chan?" Lirin asked as Sanzo and Dokugakuji exchanged meager pleasantries. Sanzo itched to be outside in the quiet again, not feeling he fit in this fast-paced mix of conversations.  
  
"In the kitchen. He just got a letter from your mother." Yaone chewed her lip. "Maybe Sanzo ought to..."  
  
"Yes, Lirin, I don't want to..."  
  
"Bullshit! Come on, Sanzo, I bet I'll never get you in here again anyway!" Lirin dragged him from the front hall toward the kitchen, leaving Dokugakuji and Yaone in their wake.   
  
"Onii-chan?" Lirin called, poking her head into a linoleum wonder that could only have been a kitchen because a bathroom didn't normally have a blender.  
  
"Your mother's still going to put you through school, Lirin," a young man muttered, hunched over the table, "but this...this is new."  
  
"What is it?" Lirin leaned over his shoulder, her bright curls sharply contrasting with the dark hair that cascaded down his back.  
  
"If I...find this document for Gyokumen Koushu, she'll pay for my mother's hospital bills. All of them!" He grinned up at Lirin, genuine happiness in his shining eyes. She embraced him, veritably dancing him around the kitchen.  
  
"And then we can all be together!" Lirin cried with a laugh. "What have you got to find?"  
  
Kougaiji glanced down to the letter, his expression dimming. "It's kind of complicated, Lirin." He glanced up and his eyes landed on Sanzo. "Who is this?"  
  
"Oh, onii-chan, this is Sanzo! He's from my school." And for a third time, Sanzo presented his hand. This handshake was a little more appraising, as if Kougaiji were trying to ascertain Sanzo's personality by the strength of his grip. He put his hand back in his pocket as soon as Kougaiji released him.  
  
"Now, Lirin, I've really got to be going," Sanzo murmured, backing away.  
  
Lirin turned upon him with a frown. "Really? Aw, but you just got in!"  
  
"I'm sure he's got a family of his own," Kougaiji added with a small smile. Sanzo nodded and made his way out, being sure to bid goodbye not only to Lirin, but Dokugakuji and Yaone as well. Once he was outside, he felt his head clearing and was grateful, although he had to admit being in that house was much warmer than the life to which he had become accustomed. No wonder Lirin always wore such a huge smile. 


	3. Patchwork Eyes

A/N: Hello again! Thanks to the folks who reviewed ^.^ Whining really does get you what you want. What I find funny, though, is that nobody noticed the first line of my haiku had -six- syllables instead of five. Whoop.   
  
Warnings: Much UST, violence, blood, and other fun things. Oh, and language too ^.^ And keep this in mind: This chapter marks the -first- time Gonou has ever been to Sanzo's place. Which makes the last line kind of sweet, I think ^.^  
  
Notes to reviewers, since there were three, are at the end of the chapter.  
  
Enjoy!  
  
***  
  
Walking back took him past Gonou's block. Before he even reached it, he was overtaken by a familiar engine backfiring.  
  
"Want a ride?" Gonou called from the driver's side of his deathtrap. Sanzo raised an eyebrow.  
  
"I'd rather not die."  
  
"Your loss." Gonou grinned like a jackal and gunned the engine, causing something under the hood to explode. As steam coursed from beneath the hood, Sanzo took a few precautionary steps backward. "It just means she's working!" Gonou reassured him, before zooming off in a cloud of smoke.  
  
"Works like a dream," Sanzo muttered to himself, pulling out his last cigarette and lighting it.   
  
The cigarette died as Sanzo made his way to Gonou's stoop, knocking and wincing at the cold in his knuckles. He felt eyes upon him and ducked inside as soon as he could.  
  
"That man across the street..."  
  
"Homura? He's a little eccentric, but he hasn't done anything worth notice." Gonou took Sanzo's coat and hung it for him, leading him further into the warmth of the house.  
  
"Gonou, there's a fucked-up thing at my house."  
  
Gonou raised an eyebrow as he took a seat in one of a set of heinous, worn, plaid armchairs in the small room that served as their den. "Care to elaborate?" he asked as Hakuryuu launched himself into his lap.  
  
Sanzo sat opposite Gonou, straightened his sleeves so the cuffs hung to his thumbs, and began to talk. He began with meeting Gojyo for the first time and trailed off in anger.  
  
"And I know all he wants is her money. If she weren't so damn' rich there'd be no point in his being anywhere near her. She's got another forty years in her, too, so he's not waiting for the will to rob her blind."  
  
Gonou rested his chin on his hands. "Your aunt's a smart lady, Sanzo," he said, turning the matter over in his mind. "I think she knows what she's doing, and I think she doesn't care. I mean, how much has she bought him already?" He correctly interpreted Sanzo's silence. "If you can't tell, then there can't be much. She'll probably string -him- along while he thinks he's getting the better of her. Your aunt's a smart lady."  
  
Sanzo frowned. "I still don't like him."  
  
Gonou smiled a little. "Just be glad she knows what she's doing, else there goes your life as we know it."  
  
Sanzo shook his head. "I can do with being uprooted. I've seen worse. I just don't like him."  
  
"A sentiment you've made quite clear. But really, even if he's moving in, he won't be that permanent a fixture. It'll pass; you know it."  
  
Sanzo shrugged and turned away, evidently done with the conversation. Gonou nodded to himself and didn't bother to try and fill the silence. There would be no point.  
  
*  
  
Sanzo let himself in and listened for signs of life. Goku came to his side after a few seconds.  
  
"Si...Sanzo, there's some food left in the oven for you."  
  
Sanzo nodded and followed Goku into the kitchen. Dinner turned out to be the leftovers of a spinach salad and a good two bowls' worth of rich minestrone soup. He ate a little of the salad, drained half a bowl of soup, and let Goku have the rest.  
  
"Don't they feed you around here?" Sanzo asked, watching the kid eat.  
  
"Well, sure, but I'm a growing boy." Goku wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. "Why are you talking to me all of a sudden?" he asked.  
  
Sanzo shrugged. He really didn't know. "It's better than talking to Gojyo."  
  
Goku smiled and took Sanzo's bowls for him, rinsing them in the sink. "I guess."  
  
"How old are you, anyway? If I do the math, you'd be no more than thirteen or fourteen when you were hired."  
  
Goku nodded. "I'm a little younger than you, actually, sir. Oop - Sanzo. I just kind of got picked up off the street, really." He shrugged, drying his hands and closing the dishwasher with one foot. "The mistress said I'd be good for you. Wonder what that means, huh, Sanzo?"  
  
Sanzo huffed. "I think...I'm going to go upstairs."  
  
"I warn you to stay in your room," Goku said, a slight blush suffusing his features.  
  
Sanzo opened his mouth to respond when the full force of Goku's statement hit him. He closed his eyes, shook his head, and said, "Sound advice. Goodnight, Goku."  
  
"Goodnight, sir. Sanzo! I meant Sanzo."  
  
*  
  
Sanzo awoke irritated on Sunday morning, pissed at the sun for shining so brightly, pissed at the weather for being so damn' clear, pissed at his stupid aunt and her stupid boytoy and their -stupid- libidos and who the bloody hell ever thought -stamina- was a good thing when there are other people in this world trying to sleep?! Out of all the opulence of her home, Kanzeon forgot to soundproof her walls, and all the hardwood and marble made for excellent acoustics. He never wanted to hear so much from Gojyo ever again.  
  
His only solace came in awakening before they did so he didn't have to talk to them, much less look at them, before he left for the day. He grabbed two apples from the fruit basket and tossed one to Goku as he made his way out the door.  
  
*  
  
He took the long way to Gonou's, content as ever with walking alone. A minor stipulation came from the fact that he was utterly out of cigarettes and did not feel like batting his eyelashes at some clerk to get a pack. Being underage was intensely frustrating.   
  
He walked toward Gonou's and saw his friend come out to the stoop and grab the morning paper. Sanzo waved and let out an indignant hiss as his arm was wrenched behind his back.  
  
"Hello, beautiful," hissed a deep voice, tinged like cinnamon at the ends of his words. Sanzo turned his head and found himself face-to-face with the mismatched eyes that haunted him every time he walked to Gonou's. Sanzo struggled, trying to pull free of the grasp, but it sent waves of pain shooting from his captured wrist through to his spine. In his other hand, his captor held a knife.  
  
"Let him go!" Gonou cried, managing to land a good hit to Homura's gut before the knife came up and cut through his left cheek. The force of the blow sent him sprawling across the muddy asphalt, tearing through the skin of his knee, arm, and forehead. It was enough.  
  
Sanzo wrenched free, nearly biting through his tongue with the pain of it, and threw snow into Homura's face. The stinging ice bit into the attacker's eyes and he rubbed at them to melt the snow. Sanzo grabbed Gonou by the arm and half-dragged, half ran with him. He heard laughter behind him, but no one followed.  
  
The skirmish was short, but the adrenaline was incredible. Gonou didn't even begin to favor his right side until Sanzo pounded the code into the keypad and the gate to safety opened.  
  
*  
  
"Come on," Sanzo murmured, leading a dumbstruck Gonou inside his home for the first time. "She should be out this early in the day." He kept his hand around Gonou's wrist and pulled him back into the kitchen. Where Gojyo was polishing off a can of beer.  
  
"Whoa! What happened to you two?"  
  
"Nothing," Sanzo snarled, turning on the tap and rinsing the mud from his hands. He jumped when Gojyo laid a hand on his shoulder. "Get off me!" He shrugged out of the man's grasp.  
  
Gojyo just put his hand back where it had been before. "Look, how about you go and take a shower and I won't tell Candy about this?" He raised an eyebrow, waiting until Sanzo turned to look him in the face. "How about it?"  
  
Sanzo glared at him, but weighed the options. In the end, he pulled out of Gojyo's grasp and, without a backward glance to Gonou, stalked from the kitchen.  
  
Gonou stood by the sink, unobtrusively shutting the water off and looking rather lost. He reached up and probed with dirty fingers at the long gash in his face.  
  
"Oh, hey," Gojyo murmured, turning to Gonou. "Here, let me look at you. With the boy around, I'd never get anything done about you."  
  
Gonou had been trained to distrust this man and so stepped back a little. "The 'boy' is my friend."  
  
"And a good one he must be. But right now you're bleeding all over my lovely lady's floor. Hold on a second." Gojyo grabbed a dishtowel and held it under the hot water from the tap. "Come here and let me see your face." He pulled the remnants of Gonou's glasses from his face and took the brunette's chin in his hand. Gojyo made a face of sympathetic pain and began to wipe the dirt out of his wounds.  
  
"Will you tell me what happened?" he asked softly, wincing each time Gonou winced.  
  
"Nothing." Gonou closed his brilliant eyes and tried not to flinch every time the raw edges of the gash on his cheek were pulled.  
  
"I don't believe that. Two strong, young lads like yourselves don't get ravaged like this doing nothing. Tell me." He folded a paper towel and gave it to Gonou to hold over his cheek.  
  
Gonou looked away and murmured, "It was Homura."  
  
"Who?" Gojyo pushed Gonou's hair from his face and cleaned the dirt around a scrape on his forehead.  
  
"My neighbor, Homura." Gonou paused again, but he couldn't help himself. The story came out, word after careful word. Gojyo listened patiently, quietly, only pausing to rinse the dirt and blood from the rag and start again on another scrape.  
  
"Lift your arms," Gojyo murmured at one pause in his litany. When Gonou complied, he pulled the shirt off of him and frowned at a large scraped patch on his right elbow. His voice hitched when the wet cloth was placed over the wound, and he bit his tongue against the sting.  
  
Gojyo shushed him, rinsed the rag, and pressed the cloth over the blood again. "Keep talking," he goaded, looking from the scrape to Gonou's tightly shut eyes. When they opened again, he saw the soft trust forming in them. Gojyo forced himself not to smile a little.  
  
"He's been after Sanzo for a while," Gonou finished, as if it explained everything. "Sanzo's...attractive."  
  
Gojyo frowned, looking up from rolling up the leg of Gonou's pants to get at a particularly bad road burn on his knee. "You're attractive. That doesn't give anybody the right to attack someone."  
  
Gonou tensed. "Is...is there anybody around here besides you?"  
  
Gojyo immediately released his grip on Gonou. "I'm sorry. That was not a tactful thing to say." He turned to the sink, again rinsing the blood from the towel in his hands. "Some servants never leave. Say, I ought to call for a first aid kit." He turned away from Gonou and bellowed, "Oi, saru!"  
  
Within moments, Goku came to the doorframe, seething at the pet name but unable to cross his mistress' lover. "Yes?" He stopped dead when his eyes lit upon Gonou. "Oh..."  
  
"Get me a first aid kit. Bandages, disinfectant, the whole lot." Gojyo glanced from Gonou to Goku and snapped, "Now!" Goku came to himself and nodded, rushing smartly away.  
  
Gojyo turned back to Gonou. "Are you okay? If you want, I can leave you alone."  
  
Gonou stood frozen, regarding Gojyo for a long, silent moment. "No. Don't." He hoisted himself up onto the countertop, presenting his bloodied knee to Gojyo. The redhead smiled faintly and nodded, washing the wound. Goku returned soon after, offering to help. Gojyo shooed him away and got out the disinfectant cream.  
  
"Do you want to do it?" he asked softly, afraid to again unsettle the boy on the counter before him. Gonou shook his head.  
  
"I can't reach some things." And it was enough. Gojyo washed his hands as thoroughly as he could, and started in the process of bandaging Gonou's more prominent wounds. As he worked, Gonou winced less and less, relaxing under Gojyo's hands though the cream stung.  
  
"So, you go to school with Sanzo?" Gojyo asked, for the sake of filling the silence.  
  
"I do. He talks about you sometimes. It's not flattering."  
  
Gojyo smiled ruefully. "I wasn't expecting that. What do you think?"  
  
"Of you?" Gonou shrugged and held out his arm so Gojyo could get at his elbow. "I think you're either ruthless or sick, with your choice of girlfriend. I think you don't have half the tact required for this particular position. But you can't be all that bad."  
  
Gojyo nodded, moving finally back to Gonou's face, cutting gauze to cover the scrape on his forehead. "Sanzo's not all that bad either. Don't talk for a second." Gojyo spread the antibacterial cream over the long gash down Gonou's face, wincing when he did. "Okay. Answer me this. Why is he barely even touched? You got attacked pretty violently from the looks of you. Why'd you take it?"  
  
Gonou tried to look away, but Gojyo caught his chin on the pretense of taping gauze over his cheek. "Sanzo didn't deserve it," he said finally.  
  
Gojyo tore the tape with his teeth. "Neither do you," he responded. "If you protect him like that, he'll never learn and you'll never survive." He glanced down to the glasses on the counter. "What kind of glasses you wear?"  
  
"I'm a little farsighted," Gonou choked out, caught off guard by the sudden subject change. "They're little more than reading glasses."  
  
Gojyo smiled. "Candy's got a hundred pairs. We'll see if we can find you something until you get new ones." He paused and closed the first aid kit, rinsing off his hands. "Can you afford them?"  
  
Gonou looked stricken. "Don't ask me that," he said, rolling down the leg of his pants. Gojyo handed him his shirt, and he looked at the dirty mess despairingly.  
  
"You've got the whole afternoon," Gojyo murmured, taking the cloth from him. "There's a washing machine in the basement you can use. This one girl Shunrei is brilliant at getting out stains." He set the shirt down behind him and looked outside at the sun.  
  
"Are you cold?" Gojyo asked, holding out a hand to help Gonou off of the counter. The boy stumbled on landing, his muddied shoes having caked to slippery dirt. Gojyo held him, careful of the heavy bandages on his right side and increasingly aware of the cold skin under his hands.  
  
"You are. Come on, Sanzo can't take showers that long. I'll lead you to his room, and you can wear some of his stuff. Bring up the glasses." Gojyo glanced at Gonou and found he was nearly as tall as the redhead. His chin was level with Gonou's mouth. "Hey, steal some of his pants, too, and I'll get everything washed."  
  
Gonou nodded, and leaned a little more heavily upon Gojyo than was really needed for his balance. Getting up the stairs was interesting, to say the least, and Gonou slipped once, landing heavily on his good knee only by some incredible stroke of luck. Gojyo helped him stand, patted his cold shoulder, and laughed with him as Gonou realized he was all right.  
  
Sanzo was already in his room when they got to him. Gonou called, "Hey, Sanzo, it's me. Can I come in?"  
  
"Don't forget the glasses," Gojyo murmured in his ear. "Bring the pants down to the basement when you get a chance." And he was gone.  
  
Sanzo opened the door to find Gonou clean, bandaged, and half-naked. His friend's face was flushed and he shivered slightly from the coldness of a large house. "Can I borrow some clothes?"  
  
Sanzo nodded. "I think you left some here from the last time you came by."  
  
***  
  
Rook: Well, you were first. Yay for you. I rather enjoy writing Sanzo/Lirin interaction, but I've got to warn you that neither of your favored pairings are going to really apply to this fic, except in terms of UST and other mental pictures you may decide to conjure. I hope that doesn't turn you off ^.-  
  
345: There really wasn't a plot...until now ^.^ Wait and see, wait and see!  
  
Gallatica: Why thank you, I'm quite flattered. And yeah, I hate fluffy 39 fics where nobody's in character. So this will be as close to in character as I can keep it. I hope... 


	4. Drastic Measures

A/N: Hello and welcome to another chapter - This is one I rather enjoy.  
  
Gonou may seem out of character, but my take on Gonou is that he's not nearly as placid as Hakkai - he's polite, but he's got a bit of an attitude, too. Hee, allow me that little bit of breathing room ^.^  
  
Warning: UST! UST! UST! Gojyo/Gonou touchyness and UST abounds! *Gojyo grins and grabs the "Un" out of "Unresolved" and runs away with it* No, no, don't take that as foreshadowing at -all-...  
  
Notes to reviewers at the end - I may as well make a habit of this ^.^  
  
Enjoy  
  
***  
  
Gonou, clothed in Sanzo's soft, tan sweater and blue jeans, padded in his socks down to the basement. Sanzo had shown him the way and promptly went to make sure his aunt had yet to return. Gonou crept down the stairs, his dirty pants slung over his arm, until he reached the floor.  
  
Gojyo waited for him down there, penning a note. He smiled apologetically when he saw Gonou. "Shunrei's out getting more detergent. She'll see this when she gets back." He took the pants from Gonou and set them atop the washing machine.  
  
"What are you going to do about Homura?" Gojyo asked, coming to stand in front of Gonou.  
  
"I don't know." Gonou shook his head. "I don't think I'll do anything."  
  
"Now that's a load of shit." Gojyo grinned a little. "I could plant some weed on his place and you could call him out for illegal drugs."  
  
Gonou raised his eyebrows. "That's a little drastic."  
  
"He hurt you. He was going to hurt Sanzo, but you stepped in." Gojyo stepped within Gonou's personal space, searching his face with piercing, scarlet eyes. "That's a little drastic."  
  
"He's my friend." Gonou didn't know why he didn't take a step back, didn't push Gojyo back, but talked straight into his face.  
  
"What if you're mine?" Gojyo asked softly, brushing his mouth against Gonou's so softly the gesture almost didn't register. He stepped back suddenly. "We'll figure something out about Homura. You're better than that." Gojyo sauntered up the stairs in time to pass a pretty blonde girl.  
  
She gave a little cry of surprise when she saw Gonou. "Can I help you?"  
  
Gonou blinked rapidly, trying to regain his voice. "Miss Shunrei? Uh, that note explains it all, I think," he babbled, pointing to the pile of clothes. When she turned, he dashed up the stairs as fast as his legs would carry him.  
  
He found Gojyo not far from the stairwell. "What the hell was that?"  
  
"Mm?" Gojyo cocked his head at Gonou. "I just told you I'm not going to be able to keep my nose out of your business if you can't take care of yourself on your own."  
  
Gonou shook his head, exasperated. "That's not what I meant! What would Sanzo say?"  
  
Gojyo raised his eyebrows. "Have you got a crush on him or something? Is that what all of this was about?"  
  
Gonou's jaw dropped. That was a possibility that had hitherto only crossed his mind in his most fevered dreams. "I -mean- about his aunt!"  
  
"Oh, her?" Gojyo grinned. "She won't care as long as you don't tell. I've got my own cradles to rob, eh?" Gojyo finally turned to fully face Gonou, his hands in his pockets. "But what about you? I don't care what Sanzo says, else I'd have never moved here in the first place. You might just matter, though."  
  
Gonou dropped his hands and looked away. "Why?"  
  
Gojyo shrugged. "You're attractive. God knows you're loyal. And you gave me a chance after listening to what Sanzo had to say about me. That's a funny thing."  
  
"I'm not funny."  
  
Gojyo smiled. "Sure you're not." He glanced up from Gonou and gave a little wave. "Hello, Sanzo. Have you been looking for this guy? I was down talking to Shunrei when he came down."  
  
"Sure. Talking to Shunrei." Sanzo turned his gaze from Gojyo to the back of Gonou's head. Said brunette glared bloody murder at Gojyo, who had a hard time suppressing his chuckles.  
  
"The clothes will be done in about an hour," Gojyo added and sauntered away.  
  
Gonou didn't watch him go, but turned to Sanzo. Which was infinitely worse. The violet eyes bored into him, questioning, and Gonou had to look away.  
  
"I found a bunch of old pairs of glasses if you need them."  
  
"I probably don't."  
  
"Come anyway." Sanzo led the way into the den with the twin fireplaces. Gonou rooted around until he found a pair of wire frame glasses that fit him almost as well as the original pair. These were a bit loose at the ends, and he found he had to keep pushing them up his nose, but they were a good enough prescription so that his hands in front of his face were no longer blurred.  
  
*  
  
Gonou's clothes were finally dry, and he changed into them without much trouble from his complaining wounds. The soreness of healing had finally set in, and he hated the restricted movement the gauze required to stay on his face.  
  
"Sanzo! What the hell is going on?" The cry echoed throughout the foyer and Sanzo winced. Gonou tailed him until he found Sanzo's aunt talking with Gojyo.  
  
"Do you mind telling me what happened?"  
  
Sanzo shrugged. "We slipped on a patch of ice." He motioned to Gonou and added, "He fell twice."  
  
"Oh, Gonou! It's been a while. It's good to see you again."  
  
"I should say the same, ma'am," Gonou answered respectfully, a little dizzy at her change in attitude. As she focused again on her nephew, her eyes were again calculating.  
  
"Sanzo, I want you to stay here. We need to talk. Gojyo, please take Gonou home."  
  
Gojyo nodded and ushered Gonou outside. "I don't have a car, so we're walking. You'll have to show me the way." Gonou said nothing.  
  
Gojyo trailed behind Gonou by half a step, letting him lead. Softly, he said, "Your name's Gonou? It doesn't suit you."  
  
"How would you know what suits me?" Gonou replied, adapting a line he'd heard from Sanzo more times than he could count.   
  
"Do you even know what suits you?" Gojyo countered. "You're young."  
  
"Seventeen years versus fifteen minutes. I'm not so young." Gonou shivered.  
  
"You're cold again. You didn't even have a coat, huh? Here." Gojyo put his arm around Gonou, letting him partway into the warmth beneath his jacket. Gonou pulled away.  
  
"Come on, it's freezing out here. Would you at least put the damn' jacket on?" He took it off and handed it to Gonou. The brunette reluctantly accepted the offering, stealing Gojyo's body heat from the fabric.  
  
Under the jacket, Gojyo wore only the long-sleeved shirt Gonou had seen on him earlier that morning. But the taller man refused to acknowledge the cold. Instead, Gojyo spoke to keep himself warm. "You know I told her. If there's anything to be done, she'll do it. And you won't have to worry any more."  
  
"That's a little drastic," Gonou spat, and Gojyo laughed.  
  
"I lived like...I don't want people living like that. Not you...not anybody. Some folks just shouldn't appear in your life." He smiled over at Gonou. "You make me want to take care of you, do you know that?"  
  
"Tactful. Turn left." Gonou headed down the sidewalk, sidestepping slush and debris thrown up by the street cleaners and snowplows. They were forced to stop at a crosswalk flooded with traffic. Gonou hit the button and waited for the signal to change.  
  
Gojyo spoke in his ear. "I don't want to have to take care of you. You can do that. I just want you."  
  
Someone honked their car horn at the sight of Gojyo embracing Gonou and tilting his bandaged face until it looked, for all the world, like they had kissed. But Gonou had held his ground and Gojyo was in no rush to push his luck. Gonou's mouth did not reach for his; all the work was on Gojyo's part.   
  
"You're freezing," Gonou murmured. "Take your coat back."  
  
Gojyo grinned, sliding his arm between his jacket and Gonou's back, splaying his cold fingers against the heat. "I'm warm enough."  
  
*  
  
"You are not to leave here without Goku."  
  
Sanzo's jaw dropped a fraction of a centimeter. Although he carefully schooled his features, the shock came to his aunt's attention.  
  
"You obviously can't take care of yourself, and look what happened to Gonou! It's what I pay Goku for, so you're damn' well going to give him a job."  
  
"Is -that- why you hired him in the first place?" Sanzo asked, his words laced in acid from his pretty mouth. He merely received the inklings of an amused grin in response before the expression passed.  
  
"I'm your guardian by law, and you can't handle yourself on your own. You won't be putting Gonou into any more danger like you did, so Goku's going with you."  
  
Sanzo sneered, "You make it sound like it's my fault."  
  
His aunt nodded. "It is. Goku will escort you to and from school, and any other place you desire to go. No exceptions."  
  
"And during school?"  
  
"I do not require that he tags along with you, but you ought to at least leave him in the library where it's warm. I'll have someone pen a note." And she winked at him, pleased with her decrees.  
  
*  
  
The signal changed, and the buzzer caused Gonou to pull out of Gojyo's arms and begin to walk across the street. Gojyo folded his arms against his chest, trying to keep some of the warmth he had stolen from Gonou's skin.  
  
"You're a sick, strange man," Gonou murmured once his feet hit the sidewalk again. He walked slowly, stiff in the cold and favoring his knee.  
  
"The sex isn't all that bad," Gojyo responded, just to see Gonou wince. "They say love transcends all barriers." He chuckled to himself. "It could plausibly apply to lust."  
  
"Pull the other one. It's got bells on." Gonou huddled inside of Gojyo's jacket as the wind picked up, turning the clear day into something more biting. He was forced to stop at another crosswalk unless he had a serious desire to experience life at forty-five miles an hour. Gojyo shivered theatrically and again slid his arms under Gonou's for warmth.  
  
"It comes with the territory. I won't let you give the coat back, but you've got to share." Gojyo grinned down at Gonou, watching as the borrowed glasses slid slowly down his face. He pushed them back up with his nose and rested his forehead on Gonou's.  
  
"What you're insinuating, I must remind you, is a few shades of illegal."  
  
"Only a little illegal, and that won't matter when you're eighteen. The rest is just frowned upon. Sex with you would be better."  
  
"That goes without saying." Gonou closed his eyes because the closeness of the other's face prompted a double image. "I hope you're not taking my putting up with you as an invitation. Truth is, I'd rather you used your hands for a better purpose and held Homura down while I beat his face in."  
  
Gojyo grinned. "You're passive, for just putting up with me."  
  
The buzzer sounded, and they broke apart to walk again.  
  
"You're intimate, for having known me little more than an hour," countered Gonou, surreptitiously zipping the jacket up to his neck.   
  
"Call me friendly." Gojyo stuffed his hands into his pockets, giving up on holding Gonou's warmth to him for more than a split second after they parted. "Do you blame yourself?"  
  
Gonou turned to Gojyo with a frown. "For what?"  
  
"For Sanzo getting attacked. You said he was your neighbor. Do you feel like you could have stopped it earlier?"  
  
Gonou looked away, turning without warning Gojyo. They continued down the sidewalk in silence once the startled redhead caught up. Gonou watched the fences they passed, scrutinizing the spaces between the posts, until he murmured, "I told him not to worry about Homura. I said he wasn't going to be a problem."  
  
Gojyo watched Gonou, not expecting him to meet his eyes but watching nonetheless. The lots were getting smaller, the areas more densely populated. He reached out to put a hand on Gonou's shoulder to make sure he didn't lose sight of the boy. The general appearance of the gesture was as such.  
  
"You're trusting. You couldn't have known," Gojyo replied, squeezing Gonou's shoulder. "I mean, you'd have been paranoid to expect it."  
  
"All those times I offered him a ride, he turned me down." Gonou said softly, huddling deeper into Gojyo's jacket.  
  
Gojyo made a soft, noncommittal noise. "If you pushed it, he could have been okay." The statement hung alone against the backdrop of other conversations and other lives that played out around them. "You let him down by respecting his wishes. You were a bad friend because you understood what he wanted. You didn't press a trivial matter. God, Gonou, you're an awful person."  
  
"Shut up," Gonou snapped, losing his iron control and raising his voice to Gojyo. He almost stepped out into traffic, but Gojyo grabbed his shoulder and held him back.  
  
He stood behind Gonou, wrapping his arms over the boy's shoulders and talking into his ear. "Don't beat yourself up over it. You're a good guy, but you're only human. Okay?" He rested his cheek against Gonou's.  
  
"Your face is freezing."  
  
Gojyo murmured, "You're warm."  
  
Gonou broke away before the buzzer even sounded, walking quickly and effectively ignoring the pain in his sore leg. Gojyo let him go, but stayed not more than a pace behind.  
  
"My house is this way," Gonou directed, taking a left and stopping, checking to see if the street was clear. The sidewalks were deserted, but there was a patch of slush and mud tinged with old blood. It had been left untouched, pristine, a testament to the events. Gojyo could see footprints crashing into one another where the boys cut a corner over another patch of snow.  
  
"That's the house," Gonou said, not looking at it but heading straight for his own door. Gojyo kept step right behind him, following Gonou to the stoop.  
  
"Mind if I use some paper and a pen?" Gojyo asked. "His address is good to know."  
  
Gonou stared at the door, numb and silent.  
  
It hung open, exposing the inside of Gonou's house to the world, an invitation for anyone that might care to come in. In his rush to help Sanzo, Gonou had never fully locked his own front door.  
  
***  
  
Notes to reviewers:  
  
Kitiara: Basic plotline as of right now: Gojyo moves in, Sanzo gets pissy, Sanzo runs off to Gonou's, Homura (who's been obsessing over Sanzo) attacks Sanzo, Gonou gets the worse end of it, much male bonding when Gojyo cleans Gonou up. *rubs chin* I think those are the major points lol...  
  
Hanae: Hm, I really haven't left myself much room to elaborate on Gojyo and Goku, but I'll think about it - that's actually a pretty darn good idea. Hmm...  
  
Anthey: I wrote that scene -just- for people like you ^.^ Think whatever you want to think about bunnies and extension cords. A little imagination never hurts...  
  
345: You were expecting a plot? Okay, well, it's got a little bit of a plot. (Karot sucks at plots!) But I hope I'll do something to your liking...  
  
Gallatica: Goku warned Sanzo to stay in his room so he wouldn't walk in on Gojyo and Kanzeon Bosatsu rutting like rabbits if he should decide to go exploring. Basically. ^.^ And about the last sentence: Sanzo was being half-sarcastic, but also sweet, Sanzo-style. It *is* the first time Gonou's been to his house, and he's just kind of conveying that Gonou's as welcome as he could ever be. Glad you're enjoying my work ^.^  
  
Fortunata: ;_; ooc? Really? Help me fix it, please! (And I'm churning this out as fast as I'm comfortable with!)  
  
-Damn, I had a lot to say to you guys! I ish loquacious to a fault!- 


	5. Handsome Meticulousness

A/N: Hello, folks. I've got to warn you, the updates will majorly slow down 'cause I'm off on a ski trip tomorrow, and then school starts up again. So hopefully this'll help ease the separation anxiety ^.^  
  
Notes to reviewers at the end...  
  
Enjoy  
  
***  
  
Sanzo sat on his bed, legs crossed and balancing a book in his lap. He chewed at the pencil in his hand, trying to force himself to focus on the alphabet soup plans implemented by the First and Second New Deals. Every time he came across the phrase, "Social Security," however, his mind flew to Gojyo and with it came thoughts of Gonou.  
  
Gonou had looked so guilty after spending all that time with Gojyo. And now they were walking to his house together. Alone. He couldn't help but wonder what the irritating gold-digger might be trying with his friend. The last thing he wanted was for the redhead to cement himself into his life.  
  
If he got close to Gonou - and Sanzo had few doubts that he'd try, after that afternoon's performance - there'd be a barrier between them. It was not Gonou's gain, but Sanzo's loss, having to acknowledge the redhead's presence on those inviolate days where Gonou was his solace. Not to mention the further disruption of his patterns in being forced to take Goku everywhere, like an overgrown pet.  
  
"Everything's his fault." Sanzo rubbed his forehead, spitting a lump of eraser out from between his teeth. He'd bitten straight through it without meaning to.   
  
He tensed at a knock upon his door. "What?"  
  
Goku's voice came through the wood, soft and halting. "Sanzo? I was just told..."  
  
Sanzo glared at the door. "It's only when I -leave- the house. Go do whatever it is you do all day."  
  
After a long pause, Goku asked, "What do you mean, leave the house? I just came to tell you that your aunt is calling a lawyer about the attack. And she'll want you to come down and talk to him when he comes."  
  
Sanzo frowned, quick and sharp. "A lawyer? What the hell does she want a lawyer for?" he muttered to himself. Lack of retreating footsteps told him Goku was still waiting outside his door.  
  
"Either stand there all day or come in. What do you want?" Sanzo called, putting his head on his hand.   
  
Goku came into his room with the reverent air of one going where one is normally not allowed. His bright eyes stayed only upon Sanzo, however, as he asked, "What did -you- think I meant?"  
  
"She didn't tell you." Sanzo's scowl deepened as Goku's questioning eyes grew more demanding. "I'm not going to tell you. Go ask her yourself."  
  
Goku's face fell. "But...Sanzo..."  
  
"Sir." Sanzo turned again to his book, dismissing Goku by breaking eye contact. "You are to call me 'Sir.'"  
  
*  
  
"Do you want me to go in first?" Gojyo asked softly, putting his hands on Gonou's shoulders.  
  
Gonou broke free of his grasp, pushing inside and calling, "Hakuryuu!"  
  
Gojyo frowned at the rash action and followed him, fists clenched at his sides just in case. "You don't know if he's still in here."  
  
Gonou ignored him. "Hakuryuu!" He stopped and listened, hearing the frantic barking of his dog coming from the small kitchen in back.  
  
The refrigerator was bare except for a single note tacked to the front. Gonou tore both doors open and Hakuryuu tumbled out of the warmer side, having by some singular glory avoided being stuffed into the freezer. The pug trembled alarmingly, however, and his fur dripped, sopping wet. Gonou grabbed a dishtowel and swaddled the dog, clutching the animal to his chest.  
  
Gojyo closed the refrigerator doors and grabbed the note. "I think he left," he murmured after reading the neat, gentle handwriting. The note had the beautiful meticulousness of penmanship and grammar that made Gojyo uneasy. Nobody scribbles so neatly.  
  
Gonou rubbed Hakuryuu, trying to dry the near-frozen water off of the pug. "That...bastard. That crazy bastard!" he hissed, tossing the wet towel into the sink. It landed with a wet slap that echoed in the emptiness, breaking the rhythm of Hakuryuu's trembles.   
  
"Got a hairdryer?" Gojyo asked. "Try that on him. We should check the rest of the house." He nudged Gonou, folding the note and shoving it into his back pocket.  
  
Gonou, only able to process one thought at a time, murmured, "There's a hairdryer in Kanan's room. Kanan!" He froze, glancing to a clock. And sagged with relief. "Sundays she helps at the church thrift shop until four and then goes straight to work. She can't know about this. She can't."  
  
Gojyo kept nudging Gonou out of the kitchen. "Check the house. If nothing's wrong, she won't." They slowly checked the premises, Gonou murmuring to himself about every article that was in its rightful place. Gojyo warmed his hands over the radiator, grateful for the life returning to his fingers. He jumped at the sudden roar that broke the silence, but realized it was the hairdryer being used on Hakuryuu.  
  
When the pug zoomed down the stairs and launched himself at Gojyo, he looked fine enough. "Everything's fine," Gonou said, coming into the room as Gojyo scooped the pug into his arms. He could feel the dog's heartbeat against his chest, quick and strong.  
  
"You didn't have to come in," Gonou said, coming to stand in front of Gojyo and unzipping the jacket. He pulled his arms out of it and passed it back, so Gojyo had to set Hakuryuu down to slip it back on. Gonou's warmth suffused the fabric, as did the faint smell of the disinfectant from his arm and cheek.  
  
"It wouldn't have been good of me to leave you like that," Gojyo replied, affecting a look of disinterest.  
  
"Did you want that paper to write down his address?" Gonou asked, stepping closer and tilting his face toward Gojyo in a manner so inviting Gojyo almost took a step back. His eyes spoke of something other than flirtatious play. Gonou's arms snaked around his waist, and Gojyo felt hot fingers slide down to his ass.  
  
"Like the piece in your pocket?" Gonou asked softly, pulling the paper free and disengaging himself from Gojyo. The redhead mentally smacked himself for letting Gonou get so close. The brunette opened the note and chewed the inside of his cheek.  
  
"Hello, beautiful," he murmured, repeating the note's greeting phrase. "Sick bastard! Pupsicles, for Christ's sake!" Gonou's voice trembled in rage as he crumpled the note between his hands.  
  
"Whoa," Gojyo soothed, taking the note and smoothing it out. "Evidence." He put it in his pocket again, patting the hiding place for show. "We'll take care of him, we will."  
  
Gonou looked down to Hakuryuu. The dog had lost his first burst of energy and was tottering around in a circle, hunkering down on the floor to sleep by the radiator. "Sick bastard," he snarled under his breath.  
  
Gojyo looked behind him, feeling a chill run down his spine. "I don't feel good about leaving you here."  
  
"If I'm not home when Kanan gets back, she'll worry."  
  
Gojyo smiled. "Is she your sister?"  
  
"Sort of." Gonou allowed a faint smile to play over his features. "And I can't let her come home to an empty house."  
  
Gojyo sighed. "Well, I still don't like you alone with that guy across the street. I'll see if Candy can send someone down. Plus," he added with a grin, "I'm completely lost as to how to get back home anyway. Where's your phone?"  
  
"Kitchen."  
  
*  
  
"Oh, really? That's good of you, Gojyo. Oh, you rogue!" She laughed. "Alright, I think I know who to send. He needs to get out of the house anyway." When she hung up the phone, she smiled, blatant and aloof. To the man waiting at her elbow, she said, "Jiroushin, I'd like you to do a little driving."  
  
*  
  
Sanzo sat in the backseat of the Benz, trying his best to shut out Goku's wide-eyed admiring of the interior. It was almost an insult, to ride the route he'd walked so many times. He'd always turned down Gonou's offers to give him a ride because it felt better to walk, because it meant he came to Gonou's on his own terms. Because he could lose himself in the easy, constant monotony of step after step.  
  
"You should keep him company," his aunt had said. "Goku will go with you to keep the two of you safe, in case that man should try anything. My lawyer will come down tomorrow and we'll all talk to him after you boys get home from school." She had stuffed some bills into his hands. "Reimburse him for feeding you."  
  
Sanzo had put the bills in his backpack, as well as his books. He'd go directly to school on Monday with Gonou, or maybe they'd both skip it. Sanzo glanced over to Goku and decided trying to slip away from the doting boy would be next to impossible.  
  
When they pulled up to Gonou's, Sanzo cast a glance to Homura's place and found the blinds closed. His wrist ached out of nerves, and he was the first up to Gonou's door. He found it unlocked.  
  
*  
  
"I'm having one of those really good days, you know?" Gonou murmured, sarcasm dripping from his words. He took a seat on his plaid chair and tried not to scratch at the bandage on the side of his face.  
  
Gojyo sat in the other chair, leaning forward and propping his elbows on his knees. "Yeah, every once in a while things happen. But you've got folks that care about you, and we're going to fix things up."  
  
"You count yourself. You said I've got folks that care about me, and then you said 'we.'"  
  
Gojyo cocked his head. "So I did." Hakuryuu jumped into his lap and he laughed in surprise at the intrusion.  
  
"Gonou?" someone called from the entryway.  
  
"Sanzo?" Gonou stared at Gojyo. "She sent -Sanzo-, of all people?"  
  
Gojyo shrugged. "I don't know what she was thinking." He pushed Hakuryuu's cold nose away from his mouth as he spoke. "Hopefully he came on my ride out of here."  
  
"Whoa, would you look at all these pictures!" an unfamiliar voice exclaimed, and Gonou got up to meet the intruders. He found Sanzo standing just inside the doorway, and a boy around his age staring at the wall littered with photographs that had no frames. Gonou cleared his throat and the boy snapped to attention.  
  
"Hello! I'm Goku and boy, it's nice to be out of the house. Hey, is Gojyo here because he's supposed to go back instead of us and have you got any food 'cause I can try cooking it if you want..."  
  
Gojyo appeared, holding Hakuryuu under one arm, and mock-exasperatedly sighed at Goku. "Damn, saru, take a breath every once in a while." He passed Hakuryuu to Sanzo, who rather ungracefully shifted the dog so it wouldn't slobber all over him. To Gonou, Gojyo said, "Call if there's trouble, okay?"  
  
Gonou nodded and moved to usher him out. Jiroushin and Gojyo stepped out the door, but Gojyo turned on his heel, cupped Gonou's good cheek, and added, "We'll fix things up. The folks that care about you." He winked, and let go.  
  
Gonou shut the door and leaned against it, at once glad to be rid of Gojyo and dreading the time to be spent alone with Sanzo. His companion, Goku, chattered on excitedly.  
  
"I guess you didn't know that I'm supposed to be here to protect you two, 'cause I'm a good fighter and I can at least hold someone off until the police get in, I guess. And I'm not a butler for right now, either, but I'll call you 'sir' if you want." Goku paused and a low rumble filled the silence. "Geez, I'm hungry! Got anything to eat?"  
  
Sanzo pulled the money that had been given to him out of his pocket. "Goku could very well eat more than this will cover, but it's here nonetheless."  
  
Gonou held up his hands. "I can't take that."   
  
Sanzo shrugged and put the money away, affecting a look of indifference. Gonou turned to Goku. "You can call me Gonou. I'm not used to having anything like a butler anyway. Dinner won't be ready for a long time, but there might be something in the kitchen for a snack."  
  
Goku grinned brightly and dodged out, leaving Sanzo and Gonou alone.  
  
"Is he always like that?" Gonou asked softly, a faint smile on his features.  
  
"No. He's lost it, being out of the house." Sanzo nudged Goku's discarded shoes with his foot. "I don't understand why he'd be hired as anything in the first place."  
  
Gonou shrugged. "Your aunt's a smart lady, but she also likes a good joke. Otherwise I don't know how she'd put up with..." Gonou trailed off, berating himself for bringing up the redhead. Sanzo would surely question him about the walk.  
  
Said blonde turned his head to Gonou, looking slightly upward to meet his friend's eyes. "She's got a sense of humor to make up for her tolerance levels. Come on, he's got an appalling appetite."  
  
Goku was halfway through his second sandwich when Gonou reached him. He grinned around the mouthful and called out his thanks. Sanzo pulled the money from his pocket and jammed it in the refrigerator door so it hung halfway out, suspended by pressure. Gonou would accept the money if he had to force it down his throat.  
  
"Well. I think I should probably get to cooking, then," Gonou murmured, watching Goku eat. "He calls that a snack?" he murmured to Sanzo. The blonde nodded.  
  
"Oi, Goku, stop after you finish that sandwich. There'll be more food later."  
  
"Yessir," Goku garbled around his latest mouthful, twisting the lid onto a near-empty jar of mustard while he chewed.  
  
*  
  
"So, tell me, Gojyo."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Do you love me?"  
  
Gojyo sat silent as his lover's fingers slid through his hair. He leaned against her hands, basking in the glow of the firelight. "How could I not?"  
  
"Mm." She slid her hands down to rest upon his shoulders. "Gojyo, make me feel gorgeous."  
  
And Gojyo smiled.  
  
***  
  
Notes:  
  
Merf: I shall - I now have more room to elaborate upon Goku's character and it has occurred to me that I have severely neglected the cute little saru. ^.^  
  
Drelfinya: *grin* I have a funny feeling you'll enjoy my pairing choices. Right now I rather like Gonou's teasing. It's a side of Hakkai that's never shown, but it seems to fit Gonou. *shrug*  
  
Ethereal-tenshi: Hee, well, originally there wasn't going to be an obvious Gonou/Gojyo pairing setup so let me ease into it ^.^  
  
Fortunata: You didn't offend me at all, no worries! Hee, those crying smileys are awful dramatic, huh? Anyway, I just wanted to know why they seemed ooc, and you told me, so thanks for that. Heh it's true I make Goku sound a little too smart, but I type like I speak and sometimes it's hard to slip into character. I'll keep that in mind ^.^ Glad you're enjoying it.  
  
345: I think one of your best decisions was to give up on finding a plot in this thing. Lol, there really isn't one. In writing Homura, I kind of wondered how his characteristic "Konzen...Rinrei...fields of flowers" type obsession thing would play into the real world. You'll note he's without Zenon and Shien, so he's just kind of a freaky pedophile-type psycho guy. I think every once in a while you gotta write a character like that so you feel happy ^.^ And when you've got one of those guys, it's just a given he attacks someone - in this case, it was closest to canon to pick Sanzo, of course.  
  
Kitiara: Of -course- I won't hurt anyone. *evil laughter* 


	6. Firelight Dancing

A/N: Hee, this chapter is very cute. Goku characterization, a few laughs, learning about Gojyo, and meeting Kanan. Which means I now get to explain the title.  
  
For those of you who don't watch the History channel, Eights and Aces is called the dead man's hand in poker. Why? "Wild Bill" was shot during a poker game with that hand in front of his face. I just took the symbolism and ran with it. Notes to reviewers at the end of the chapter.  
  
Enjoy!  
  
***  
  
"I still don't get it. Full House is...is..." Goku stared at the hands laid out on the table, pointing at the various line-ups of card combinations. "That one?"  
  
"Goku, what you have in that hand are two pairs. Have you been paying attention?" Gonou asked, looking over Goku's shoulder.  
  
Goku frowned. "It's confusing!"  
  
Sanzo put his forehead on his hand. "For a monkey. I'm beginning to understand why Gojyo calls you that." After so many hours, neither he nor Gonou had been successful in teaching the kid how to play a decent game of poker.  
  
Goku's jaw dropped, about to deny the nickname, but Sanzo's prior curtness with him curbed his tongue. No longer was he allowed to call the blonde by his name; he didn't want to push his luck to the point where he could no longer talk freely to him without reprimand.  
  
Instead, he turned his attention to Gonou, who retreated from the table to lean over a boiling pot. "What is that, anyway?"  
  
Gonou wiped the sweat from his forehead, whipping off the borrowed glasses to rub the steam from them. "This is what I like to call 'leftover soup,'" he explained with a smile. "Tastes different every time."  
  
Goku bounced in his chair. "Smells great!"  
  
The front door opened and Goku bolted toward it, intent on proving his effectiveness as a bodyguard. Not only did he beat Hakuryuu to the door, but he quite thoroughly shocked Kanan.  
  
"Gonou! It's a girl!" he shouted, pausing mid-spring at the incongruency of the actuality with his imagination.  
  
Gonou rushed from the kitchen and squeezed past Goku. "I should say so! Kanan, this is Goku. He's a bit of a stipulation in Sanzo's new guidelines."  
  
Goku, rebounding easily from his mistake, thrust out a hand in greeting. "Hi! I'm Sanzo's bodyguard."  
  
Kanan, taking an extra second or two to process the flood of information and slow her thundering heart, managed a soft smile. She gave her hand to Goku and allowed him to pump it up and down a few times, and relaxed into Gonou's hand when he ushered her inside.  
  
She washed her hands in the sink after patting Hakuryuu's wrinkled head. "So, are we serving dinner to our guests?" she asked, trying not to sound haggard.  
  
Gonou smiled at her. "You go and sit, Kanan. I've taken care of everything, and we promise to be very quiet so you can get your rest."  
  
Sanzo surreptitiously cleared the cards from the table, stuffing them into a pack that disappeared into his pocket. The box was nearly identical to the one that housed his cigarettes. Goku glanced between Kanan and Gonou, his eyes darting from brunette to brunette, until he rather bluntly asked, "So you guys are siblings?"  
  
Gonou laughed. "You could say that." And he served the meal so Goku's mouth was quite occupied.  
  
*  
  
Dancing is either natural or intimidating, depending on the dancer-to-be's number of metaphorical left feet. Gojyo, pitied by the literal when he went shoe-shopping, was good-natured enough to try anyway. It made Candy laugh.  
  
"Really, sweet thing, I may as well just carry you."  
  
"This is worth broken feet." She laughed again as he stumbled in beat with the music.  
  
"There are so many other things you might watch me do," Gojyo grumbled, tightening his hands about her waist so he wouldn't fall. "But it's got to be dancing." Fed up, he lifted her into his arms and took a few steps without faltering.  
  
She squealed, rather undignified, and he wiggled his thumbs so the sound echoed again. She smacked him upside the head, but playfully. "Stop it!"  
  
"But now I'm not falling," Gojyo replied, grinning into her bosom. Technology had done wonders for aging gracefully, and there had as of yet been no love lost beneath her collar. He spun around with her and set her down, skidding a few feet on the polished marble out of pure momentum.  
  
She put her hand on her hip and grinned up at him. "That was nice. Like a memory."  
  
Gojyo raised an eyebrow. "But it's now, Candy."  
  
She shook her head, crossed the room to the stereo, and cut off the music mid-beat. "Do you really think a woman my age ought to laugh like a girl again?"  
  
"What do you mean, 'your age?'" Gojyo countered, cocking his head to the side. Hair fell over his eyes and he reached up to put it behind his ear. His fingers snagged in a tangle.  
  
"Tell me, Gojyo, what are you doing here?"  
  
"I -was- making a fool of myself in front of my girlfriend." He grinned at her.  
  
"Girlfriend." She returned to him, her height rivaling his, and searched his face with piercing eyes. "Really, now?"  
  
Before he knew it, Gojyo began to babble. "Well, yeah! Candy, you're my girl, aren't you? I mean, I know you're not a girl; you're a woman, and that's not a bad thing at all!" He stopped when she held up a hand, and stared stupidly at her palm.  
  
"I'm a rich old bat, and you're, what, twenty-something? Tell me the truth." And her face was the sort that dispelled any possibility of having the guts to lie straight into it.  
  
Gojyo looked away, his grin replaced by the little smile that curved his mouth whenever he forgot to school his features. "I'll be out on the street after this, I'm betting. Give me time to pack?"  
  
"It's about my money."  
  
Gojyo didn't look at her. "That's not it." He pointed upward, eyes following his finger until his head rocked all the way back and his hair fell from his shoulders. "It's more this."  
  
*  
  
"That was great! Got any more?" A smack. "Ow! San...sir, what was that for?"  
  
Gonou recovered first. "Well, you may have to make it until breakfast, Goku. That was the last of it."  
  
Goku sighed. "Well, thanks anyway." His finger dove into the pot, and he grinned. "I'll help clean up."  
  
Sanzo put his head on his hand, watching Goku bounce around Gonou. Kanan laughed softly. "He's like Hakuryuu, following Gonou around like that."  
  
Sanzo snorted. "He's good at it."  
  
Kanan moved to get up. "I should help them."  
  
"Sit down," Sanzo ordered, an edge in his voice. "If there's a crash, I'll go in. You sit."  
  
And she did, her green eyes soft as they lingered on Sanzo's face. She smiled at him, not expecting one in return. "Where are those cards? Are you up for Five-Card?"  
  
Sanzo pulled them out. "You're not the type to gamble."  
  
Kanan shrugged. "Who do you think taught Gonou? He took most of my luck. Deal, so I have something to do with my hands."  
  
Sanzo almost smiled. "You're one of those types that just can't follow orders. Gonou wants you to rest."  
  
"But I shouldn't be a vegetable. Threes are wild, right?" Kanan glanced at her cards, put two down, and grabbed two from the deck. "Well, what do you know."  
  
Sanzo chewed at his tongue for lack of anything else; he wasn't about to smoke in front of Kanan. Three cards down, three new ones in.  
  
"I've got to say, you've got fantastic features for this," Kanan murmured, glancing between him and her hand. "You set?"  
  
Sanzo shrugged and tossed his hand down on the table. Four kings stared blankly at the ceiling, framing a lowly two of clubs. Kanan nodded and set her hand down, smiling softly.  
  
"Dead man," Sanzo murmured, swiping the draw pile into his hands and shuffling without picking up either of their hands.  
  
Kanan picked up her own, handing it to Sanzo. "It never pays to read too deeply into anything. I often pulled Eights and Aces when Gonou and I played. The coincidence always disturbed him." She shrugged. "After a while, I stopped playing because he'd get this look on his face."  
  
"And you never traded the cards."  
  
Kanan's smile did not falter, but her eyes changed almost imperceptibly. "It's a reliable hand. I don't believe in superstition, even if it's historical."  
  
Hakuryuu zoomed out of the kitchen, squealing high and shrill. He was soaked, water and suds trailing behind him. Goku chased the dog, a towel over his hands, yelling its name as he thundered through the house.  
  
Sanzo poked his head into the kitchen, expecting a scene of carnage that fortunately did not meet his eyes. Gonou was bent over the sink, stifling laughter in running water. When he noticed Sanzo, he straightened up, his shoulders still shaking.  
  
"I should get another towel for the floor," he said, turning away and chuckling.  
  
Four frigid, dripping paws crashed into Sanzo's back, soaking cold, soapy water through the back of his shirt. He whirled and saw Goku, carrying Hakuryuu before him in a towel. The boy grinned sheepishly.  
  
"Caught him."  
  
"You know where the clean shirts are," Gonou called, and Sanzo walked away muttering exasperatedly under his breath.  
  
*  
  
"Do you remember where we met?" Gojyo asked, straightening to look at her.  
  
"Outside the art auction downtown." She paused, thinking a moment. "It wasn't raining, but it was cold and you offered me your coat when we were in the gardens."  
  
Gojyo smiled a little. "Yeah, it was cold, even though the sun was still out. Do you remember that one abstract sculpture like a pretzel with a growth?"  
  
She smirked. "You might have seen a pretzel." She turned her bright eyes to him and they were cold. "What's your point?"  
  
"Remember how well I was dressed? How many times have you seen me wear those clothes?"  
  
She closed her eyes. "Every time we went to dinner. Every last time."  
  
Gojyo exhaled so that his breath ran into his words. "Yes. And how many times did you ever come back to my place?"  
  
As she supplied the answer to herself, she opened her eyes. "This explanation's getting interesting." She closed the distance between them to poke a well-manicured fingernail against his chest. "You're a man with one suit and no place to speak of, and yet you tell me this isn't about my money."  
  
Gojyo grinned. "Okay, the money was an unexpected perk. But the actually having a roof over my head was nice, too. One more question for you, and then you can kick me out."  
  
"Shoot."  
  
"I'm twenty-two. You can't deny I'm good in bed. I'm damn' good. How do you think I figured it out?"  
  
Her eyes lit up and he shied away, his cool demeanor already returning to shield him from the inevitable. Her finger followed him, staying on his chest, until she was walking him backwards and he'd hit a frigid, hard wall. What once had been romantic firelight was now alienating shadow. It was too warm. Her finger pushed too hard against his skin. She wouldn't look away from him.  
  
"Shouldn't you have someone looking for you, then?"  
  
Gojyo stared dumbly. "Looking?" She waited until he realized what she meant, and he winced. "Oh. No, I'm what you might call...freelance. And the cops don't know my face because I hadn't been here more than a few days before I found you."  
  
Another soft question in a serrated voice that used to drip with honey. "Are you expecting payment?"  
  
Again, he was dumbstruck. "Normally I just ask for food and a place to sleep. You've beyond paid," he said finally, again looking about him to avoid her eyes. "I hadn't expected to stay this long. Just one night, a good meal and a pillow. But then, well." He shrugged. "You were persistent, and I started to like you. It's hard not to respect you, but I liked you too. I was comfortable, so I let it go on, overestimating my luck and ignoring the possibility that you'd mind." He looked at her again, his face blank but exuding guilt. "There you have it. I can leave now if you want."  
  
She lifted her finger and replaced it with her hand, holding him against the wall. "I'm sure you've got some sort of romantic sob story as to why you decided to become a whore."  
  
"Too stupid to be a doctor," Gojyo interjected, his usual wit prompting the outburst.  
  
"Too talkative to be an accountant either," she shot back, remnants of her smile flickering over her face. "I'm sure you've got your reasons as to why you lied, too. Pretending you were just some other lowly gold-digger looking for sugar." Her eyes roved over his face, again probing for whatever answer she sought. "I figured I'd frustrate you sooner or later and you'd leave after giving up a sorry excuse, but I felt like having a young thing around." She paused, and added, "That was neither my servant nor my nephew." Gojyo couldn't help but snort. Even then, they made each other laugh.  
  
"I never bought you anything but dinner."  
  
"I never gave you anything but myself. Good enough trade."  
  
"I'm too old for this."  
  
"I'm too young," Gojyo countered in utter seriousness. "And you should probably wait another thirty years yourself."  
  
She snorted and the hand on Gojyo's chest fisted in his collar. "Come and sit with me. We're going to talk until I'm satisfied." And he followed her to the couch, hesitant about touching her but nearly afraid not to.  
  
***  
  
Notes:  
  
M-chan: I've narrowed the pairings down, but keep an open mind. Kanan's not so much of an oh, no, but other things will start happening in a while.  
  
Ethereal-tenshi: *maniacal laugher* Soon, my pet, very soon...  
  
Nobody's Home: *hands you a cough drop* Feel better, hon. *grin* sorry to cut you off but I'm working as fast as I'm comfortable with.  
  
Gallatica: Okay, things in order. Thanks for the chocolates ^.^ Second, when Sanzo changes his title in Goku's vocabulary, it means a ton, as you've already figured out. Hee, lots of fluctuations to come. Third, I can't -tell- you how much Candy knows. She's a perceptive little lady, though. Sir/Goku is in the works. It may not happen, it just might happen, it may be blink-and-miss. Gonou/Gojyo turned into the "popular" pairing, but I do adore my 39 as well. Kanan and Gonou are as together as you want them to be. I left it open to speculation. And finally, my skiing trip was one of the greatest times of my life. Thanks for asking ^.^  
  
Merf: Goku's part is going to get bigger as we go along. He's becoming a bit more vital to me, and I'm sort of phasing Gojyo out - the story really centers around Gonou and Sanzo. *wink* I'll mention you as many times as you review *wink*  
  
345: Hee, Homura's nothing without his lackeys, that's for sure, but he's definitely more manageable when he's kinda pathetic. He's still a threat, but he's not so overwhelming to me, the poor little fic writer. Glad I got a reaction from that last sentence - Gojyo really is shameless. And, from this chapter, you now know why.  
  
Becky: I know you're reading this from your comment today. I'm glad you're enjoying this ^.^ If you have any comments or criticisms, know I respect your opinion and I'd like to hear them! 


	7. Red String

A/N: Well, this is the last of the stuff I had already written. Eh heh. So now your reviews must be filled with suggestions to help me along! What do -you- want to see? (More of Goku, more of Homura, yes I know...lol)  
  
Enjoy this chapter; notes to reviewers at the end...  
  
***  
  
Goku bounded up the stairs, calling, "Sir, Gonou wants..." and stopped. The view that met him was enough to kill his voice for myriad reasons. Sanzo leant halfway out into the frigid night, bending at the waist and propping his elbows against the sill. He was barefooted against Gonou's worn carpet, and one of Gonou's sweaters hung from his shoulders. The shirt Hakuryuu had soiled was slung carelessly over Gonou's desk chair.  
  
Sanzo did not turn but shifted over, almost an invitation. "S...sir..."  
  
"What?" He exhaled into the night and his breath condensed upon contact with the air. It took Goku a minute to realize he was actually smoking, hanging out Gonou's window. His response to this mirrored a familiar nag verbatim.  
  
"Those are going to kill you, sir," Goku murmured reproachfully.  
  
Sanzo snorted. "You're supposed to latch onto me first," he muttered under his breath, turning to see Goku staring at him. "Are you going to stand there or what?"  
  
Goku blinked and came to himself. "Gonou wants to know if you'd mind sleeping on the couch."  
  
"He's not seriously thinking about sleeping tonight."  
  
Goku chewed his lip. "Maybe he's just being a good host? Sir?"  
  
"What else, idiot? Look, let me finish out here and then I'll be down." Sanzo turned back to the outside, and resumed counting the shingles on the roof next door. Every once in a while, his wrist would twinge and he would bite down on the filter between his teeth.  
  
A warm shoulder pressed against his as Goku crammed himself into the window. "People can see you."  
  
Sanzo frowned over at Goku, not about to waste his breath in telling the kid he didn't give a flying fig. Or something to the effect. But then, Goku added, "Look, right across the street. There's a light on over there, and if you can see them, they can see you."  
  
There was an insistence in Goku's tone, a desperateness in his voice that made Sanzo step back. And he hated the thought of being watched by those patchwork eyes. The cigarette was gone anyhow. He pitched the butt out the window, not caring to see where it landed because he knew it'd hit snow.  
  
"Good. Sir, you should at least try to sleep tonight. I mean, you've got school tomorrow."  
  
"What are you? My keeper?" Sanzo snapped, unable to keep the angst from overtaking his susceptible teenage psyche. "It doesn't matter to you. Just watch out the front window for the bogeyman." He brushed past Goku to pad downstairs, but stopped in the doorframe. "And stop calling me 'sir.' It's annoying."  
  
*  
  
Gojyo yawned as he spoke, unable to keep his body from reacting to the hour. "You know what I'm going to say."  
  
"You know you can't." She kept the smile from her face if only because she could see her words tearing at him. But she knew she was right, and she knew he was going to have to come to grips with it. "Disappear for a while. Until this whole thing blows over, and maybe a little longer after that. He may not even want to see you then."  
  
Gojyo looked stricken. "I was talking about leaving -you-."  
  
"I'm sure. Gojyo, I'll take care of you; it'll be hard for you to shake me off. You can't bullshit me with that sort of talk." The grin slipped through this time, the topic of the conversation lending to gentle teasing. For the first time since she'd met him, she watched him squirm, truly uncomfortable. It was unbearably cute.  
  
"Just disappear. Right now you're going to be associated with this whole fiasco."  
  
Gojyo frowned at the advice. "Dandy Candy, it'll be hard to disappear."  
  
"I'll make sure you do. Trust in that. Any other qualms?"  
  
Gojyo sat in the darkness a long time, watching the firelight die from orange cinders to deep red. In the hot and dark, he asked, "How did you know?"  
  
"I know everything." Red cinders faded, matching hue with Gojyo's eyes only for an instant before starlight and snow were the only light. She heard, rather than saw him turn to her, holding his breath. And she smiled in the dark, knowing he would see it. "You don't look at me the way you look at him."  
  
*  
  
Sanzo must have slept on that couch, because he awoke stiff and tired, more exhausted than he had been the night before. Goku and Gonou were already awake, as evidenced by the noise coming from the kitchen. He sat up with a grunt and stretched, his neck cracking loudly against the white noise created by the radiator. He got to his feet and yawned, rather undignified, padding to the bathroom and shutting himself in.  
  
He looked, to be gentle about it, terrible. His blue-violet eyes were bloodshot, his hair was disheveled, and he'd slept in the clothes he was going to have to wear that day. Sanzo just didn't want to borrow anything from Gonou. He wetted his hands and ran them through his hair, and had no qualms about borrowing Gonou's toothbrush. It was already wet, so the brunette would never know.  
  
He was met by Goku and Gonou downstairs, both looking ready to go, if tired. Goku held out Sanzo's backpack, and Sanzo took it after slipping his arms into his coat.  
  
"We can take the car," Gonou said. Sanzo shot him a glare that plainly stated his answer, but Goku piped up rather exuberantly.  
  
"You can drive? Awesome! Let's go! Hey, Sanzo, are there vending machines at your school? I know I've got to stay in the library but I figure I can get something to eat first, huh?"  
  
Gonou smiled and ushered them outside, locking the front door and testing the knob several times. Sanzo glanced over at the house across the street and took a step closer to Gonou. Whether it was to reassure himself or the brunette, he wasn't really sure. They went down the front steps together, side by side, never parting more than a few inches between their shoulders. Goku continued blithely on ahead.  
  
"I don't see why I've got to stay in the library anyway...stop." Goku held out his hand and nearly punched Sanzo in the gut, but his eyes were trained firmly on the house across the street. "He's moving around in there, but it doesn't look like he's coming out. Go on, get in the car. I'll stay here and make sure." Sanzo raised an eyebrow at his sudden professionalism, but followed Gonou into the garage. Where he realized he'd be getting into the deathtrap he'd spent so much time avoiding.  
  
"Just this once, Sanzo," Gonou assured him. "We're a little late to walk, and she hasn't died on me yet." Sanzo frowned, but climbed into the passenger side and strapped the seatbelt on as soon as he was in. Gonou got in and started the car, and it jumped. Sanzo's knuckles whitened on the bar attached to the door. He was beginning to understand why some folks called it the "Oh, Shit" bar. Gonou pulled out and Goku jumped into the backseat, watching the house until they were around the corner.  
  
Goku turned around then, leaning between the two front seats. "I don't think he's gonna do anything more, really," he said. "I mean, he didn't do a -thing- last night besides sleep, or I'd have seen it."  
  
Sanzo snorted. "What are you talking about, 'seen it?' You were in with us the entire night."  
  
Goku shook his head. "Not when you were asleep." He yawned widely. "He was doing some stuff around two or three, but it just looked like a late-night potty run to me."  
  
Gonou smiled at the incongruities of Goku's immature words against his knowledgeable tone. He reached up and pushed his chest. "Seatbelt, Goku."  
  
*  
  
When they arrived, Sanzo found out the office already knew about Goku, and they were willing to let him stay in the library until lunch. While Sanzo was glad to be rid of the constant, nagging presence, he was also irritated at his aunt's having taken care of things far too far in advance. Again.   
  
He sat through his morning classes with little more than his usual contempt for them. Lirin sat to his right in Pre-Calculus, and she whispered to him about her brother's newfound zeal in helping her mother. She explained far more about the family than Sanzo ever wanted to know, including exactly how it came about that Lirin and Kougaiji were half-siblings down to what Doku and Yaone (who, of course, were also 'family' in that all-encompassing sense) had for breakfast that morning. And then, near the end of class, she began making unit circle jokes with some clever puns about the radian equivalent of ninety degrees. Sanzo had to bite back a smile and instead snorted at a particularly good line about tangents as applied to measurements of right triangles. ("So when you drop a perpendicular you get pi on your base...") Through it all, Lirin smiled innocently at the teacher, even as the intelligent insinuations dropped from her mouth.  
  
She followed him to lunch, taking her usual seat near him on the bench outdoors near the entrance to the library. The overhang that protected the library's entrants also covered this bench, and though snow piled around them, it was dry and relatively warm. The day was bright and clear, and even Sanzo sat with his jacket open, enjoying the feel of it. Gonou arrived soon after, his nose in a book, until Lirin closed it for him and made him sit. Soon, the bench was too small, as Goku bounded out of the library and took a seat next to Sanzo, cramming the blonde and Gonou in the middle. As soon as Lirin struck up a conversation with Goku, however, they were talking over and around the two in the middle, so Gonou finally stood and let Goku take his seat.  
  
Sanzo shook his head and filched a few french fries from Goku when the kid wasn't looking. It was all he'd eaten the entire day, and Gonou commented on it. Sanzo merely shrugged in response. Gonou changed the subject to a highly neutral ground, talking about the book he was reading. He'd left it where he'd been sitting before, on the other side of Sanzo, and when he reached over to grab it, another hand came into his vision.  
  
Rather dramatically, Gojyo was 'dragged' along by Gonou's hand, righting himself only when Gonou returned to his original position. Gojyo shook out his hand, having 'strained' it in the pantomime.  
  
"God, Gonou, you've got to be more careful when the string's that short," he greeted. And then he held up his hand, rubbing dramatically at the fifth finger where a red bow would be.  
  
Gonou raised an eyebrow. "I bet you use that on everybody you patch up."  
  
Gojyo leaned against the side of the bench, putting his arm behind Gonou's head. "Just you. Hey, Sanzo, you'll be glad to hear something."  
  
"You've contracted a terminal illness in which your prick falls off first?"  
  
Gojyo grinned at him. "Thy eloquence belies thy beauty, fair lad. No, actually, Candy and I came to an agreement of sorts. I came by to let you know so you're not shocked and dismayed when you get home." He ran his thumb down the back of Gonou's neck. "I'll be around, but not so in your face." He bent down so his red hair brushed Gonou's shoulders. "You can't get rid of me so easily," he murmured, then roughly patted Gonou's shoulder. On his way out, he ruffled Goku's hair, finally bringing him into the conversation. Lirin stared after Gojyo.  
  
"Who was that?" she asked, just as Goku exclaimed, "What'd he do?!"  
  
Sanzo said nothing, not looking at anyone. Especially not Gonou.  
  
***  
  
Notes:   
  
Ethereal-tenshi: Hee, I rather favored that scene, too. Goku running after a hyperactive pug just equals cute. I made Hakuryuu a little more spastic than his canon counterpart, but hey, dogs are allowed to be like that ^.^  
  
Merf: Homura-drama is now coming! The school day will end in the next chapter, which sends Sanzo and Gonou home to talk to Candy's lawyer. And that starts a domino effect. *maniacal laughter* I just pray for your patience in the matter ^.^  
  
Becky: What, of course? Lol threes are wild...that -could- be easily misconstrued, I suppose, but whatchameaaan? And it's impossible not to love Goku, really ^.^ See what actually having seen some of Saiyuki does for the overall -experience- of the fanfic? Hee...  
  
Nobody's home: Well, I'd give my brain to you but I kinda need it for the whole cognizance thing. But thanks anyway ^.^ I'm flattered.  
  
345: Gojyo is Gojyo...I keep reading used-to-be-a-prostitute fics set in the Saiyuki-verse, too, and it really does fit him if he's desperate enough. I personally don't think anybody -but- Gojyo would consider doing what he did..._o kinda icky. But hey, that's Gojyo's thing ^.^ About Gonou-to-Hakkai...well, how did Gonou become Hakkai in the manga/anime? That ought to be the biggest hint out there. Now you get to wonder if it applies or not ^.^ I'm not telling! 


	8. Genuine Concern

A/N: This is short because, well, I had to cut it off here because there's a much larger section that needs to keep together...and I'm not done with that bit yet ^.^   
  
Isaac Paul is an original character of mine, and has been for a long time. He just strikes me as the lawyer type that's enough like Kanzeon to bug Sanzo but not -so- alike that Kanzeon also dislikes him for the similarity. ^.^   
  
Notes to reviewers at the end...  
  
Enjoy  
  
***  
  
Sanzo didn't look at anything but the stairs up to his room. And the door to his room. And the interior of his room. And the window to the snow-covered acre lot on the far wall of his room. The sun was setting, later than before, but setting. The sky bled into the shining snow, red-orange staining pristine white in the reflection on a million tiny crystals. Naked trees cut into the brightness, black and gray and paralyzed a step from life. Tense, like the hands that clutched the sill until the knuckles whitened and stretched skin pulled painfully at everyday rips near the nails.  
  
Sanzo pulled his hands away from the wood and just leaned out into the cold, clearing his head. It had become almost as soothing as the cigarettes themselves, but no placebo. Moments later, his lungs burned in contrast with his frozen face and the glow of a cigarette rivaled the red sky. He'd shed his school jacket long before, loosened the white button-down shirt so he could breathe and move his hands.  
  
It hadn't helped earlier that afternoon. Riding stiff-backed and tense in Gonou's deathtrap to his house only to find his aunt and a lawyer and no Gojyo to pin his frustrations upon. She'd had the nerve to explain the situation to him as if he'd been -worried- about The Fucktoy. They'd reached an agreement. Gojyo had moved out earlier today. My, won't the house seem empty when he's gone?  
  
The lawyer was irritatingly like his aunt, a man by the name of Paul, with loose honey-colored curls and chocolate eyes and a gray pinstriped suit that looked gaudy in tandem with his attitude. He sat Gonou and Sanzo down and quizzed them about That Day, asking for each and every detail they could give up. His face was stern and aloof, but his eyes held the same bit of disrespectful humor and his thin lips were ever quirked in a half-smirk. He recorded their voices, his face never changing and his eyes searching for hidden meanings when really there were none. He tried to make connections and failed miserably.  
  
Gonou and Sanzo were permitted to leave, and told to Call Mr. Paul (remember the rhyme, boys) if they happened to remember anything else. Gonou had politely nodded and left without another look at Sanzo. And Sanzo was fine with that.  
  
The cigarette burned his fingers when he reached up to pull it from his mouth, and he tossed it into the snow. Sanzo turned at a familiarly unobtrusive knock. "What?"  
  
"That lawyer guy just left. I've got food for you," Goku said. "I was told to send you down to dinner, but I figured you wouldn't want to go."  
  
Sanzo frowned at having a good rant taken from him by sweet forethought. Nevertheless, he crossed the room and opened the door, letting Goku sidle in with a tray of salmon and salad. Goku set the tray down on Sanzo's bare desk, and the blonde thought fleetingly of the homework he'd have to make excuses for the next day.  
  
"So when's the trial?" Sanzo murmured, indicating that Goku didn't have to leave as rapidly as planned. The brunette shrugged, watching as Sanzo sat and took a bite of salmon.  
  
"He said it'd take a few months before the trial even came up for consideration in court. But the guy - Homura - he's gonna go to prison for holding as soon as the suit's filed."  
  
Sanzo swallowed. "Hn." He watched Goku for a moment, then rolled his eyes. "Have you eaten yet?" Without waiting for an answer, he held out the plate of salmon. "I hate fish anyway."  
  
Goku's jaw dropped. "You do? I can get you something else..." He stopped when he saw the look on Sanzo's face. Take-the-damn'-fish. So he did. It wasn't so bad, grilled and spiced with lemon pepper and rosemary. Richer than he was used to, but made so well. Goku wondered how Sanzo could hate any food like this. He sucked at his thumb, trying to catch a bit of lemon juice and olive oil before it stained the shirt cuff at his wrist.  
  
Sanzo ate slowly, trying not to listen to the sickening sounds coming from Goku and yet perversely enthralled by the spectacle the boy provided. His own hunger was a minor addition, not really having been sparked even though he'd eaten nothing more than a few of Goku's fries at lunch. The salad was spinach and sun-dried tomatoes, light and in no way filling, and the vinaigrette left a film over his mouth. The kid had forgotten water, but Sanzo didn't really trust him to make it up the stairs with even a glass filled halfway.  
  
"I heard what you guys said to Mr. Paul. Did you know his first name's Isaac?"  
  
Sanzo honestly didn't, but the question was overshadowed by Goku's first statement. He chose to sit silently, licking the fork once and dropping it in the salad bowl with a clang of metal on ceramic.   
  
"I saw Gonou that day too, when Gojyo was fixing him up." Goku stopped when Sanzo raised an eyebrow. "What?"  
  
So Gojyo and Gonou had spent God-knows-how-long together, talking and touching and learning to trust. And Gonou wouldn't talk to him about it. Granted, their relationship was never one for revealing many feelings, always one more of experience and advice and companionable silence and refuge. But it explained why Gonou was so jumpy earlier on, with Gojyo's hands on his body under the pretense of healing. He disliked Gojyo enough to make it heinous, and was attached to Gonou enough to elevate the charges against the redhead.  
  
There grew in Sanzo the indecipherable and foreign spark of jealousy that often comes to children and teens and even adults deprived of a new experience not withheld from their peers. Worse, one that makes someone else so happy has shattered the circle of normalcy upon which we all so fervently depend. Someone has come into -my- home and become the center of -my- attention and distracted -my- friends and ruined -my- life. I think I'll isolate myself further by being cold and aloof to the one person I want to keep around. It seems logical enough.  
  
Sanzo blinked and realized he'd been staring at his clenched fist, locked inside his own head. Goku was talking.  
  
"I didn't know why he'd got banged up so bad. You too. If I had, I'd of gone and knocked his block off right then! Why didn't you tell me?"  
  
Sanzo bit back the urge to relinquish his grip on his scowl. "You answered your own question, idiot."  
  
Goku paused, then laughed. "Okay, yeah, then I'd probably have gotten in trouble and stuff. Hey, that means you were looking out for me?"  
  
Sanzo's first response was to deny that, and vehemently. So when the word "Maybe" came out of his mouth, the most shocked person in the room was Sanzo himself. Goku just beamed at him.  
  
"Well, still. Gonou told Gojyo, so you could have told me."  
  
Sanzo nearly winced at the parallels Goku had begun to make. "Gojyo," he said, "squealed."  
  
Goku came over near Sanzo, setting the empty plate down on the tray and brushing his hands on the sides of his pants. He smelled of lemon and rosemary. "Well, would you rather that guy not be brought to court?"  
  
"Justice, sure. Court, no." Overlarge halls exuding severity, coldfaced old woman in a chair like a queen, uncomfortable hard wooden chairs and table and railings and witness box, tile floors that echo when the infernal gavel strikes on ceremony alone. Sanzo had been there once before, as a young child, and had no desire to return. The similarities of the two sets of circumstances occurred to him, shocking and mollifying and twisting deep in his gut.  
  
The first time had been a man called Shuei, a man he trusted until the cold hard Court beat other influences into him. His father's friend Shuei, the family friend Shuei, the priest Shuei had defiled a confessional with a sweet-faced blonde boy with eyes of swampwater green instead of blue-violet. The witness stand was a cell for Sanzo as he was unable to meet the eyes he once adored boring into his body, almost pawing at his skin. Suddenly every time Shuei had been near him was tainted with suspicion.  
  
It wasn't much later that The Accident occurred, leaving Sanzo with no family but this derisive woman he was expected to call an aunt.  
  
"Court is hell," Sanzo murmured, trying to push lecherous patchwork eyes from his mind. They were dirty like Shuei might have been if Sanzo had only been paying attention.   
  
Goku grunted softly. "Still, if Gojyo hadn't squealed, would you have?"  
  
Maybe not. Not if he didn't want to relive Shuei, to admit again the pitfalls of his simply being alive. And if he wouldn't, Gonou wouldn't. At least, he thought Gonou wouldn't. Would he?  
  
Sanzo dismissed these thoughts with a wave of his hand. "It doesn't matter. Gojyo talked and that's all there is to it."  
  
"Okay." Goku accepted the statement without argument, at once providing relief from the barrage that seemed to be aimed at Sanzo all day. "Hey, do you always have that window open? It's really cold in here."  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
Goku reached out a hand and rested it on Sanzo's shoulder. "Liar! You're freezing. You were smoking again. Aw, geez, Sanzo..."  
  
Funny, how a bit of genuine caring can overshadow any other bitterness, can gently untangle the knots in your guts. It slides over like oil on water and just as spectacular when the thin sheen is exposed to sunlight. In this instance, sunrise started when Sanzo cut Goku off with a "Shut up."  
  
Goku shook his head. "Nuh uh. And you didn't eat anything either! What am I getting paid for?"  
  
"Hanging around me like a sick dog."  
  
Goku's eyes narrowed. "Bodyguarding! If that's a word. From outside and inside, too. So you're gonna take better care of yourself, and you're gonna start by at least closing the window. I'm cold and I'm wearing more clothes than you."  
  
Sanzo frowned. "When did you decide to become my mother?"  
  
"'Cause you're important to me!" Goku stopped, stared at the wall, and reined himself in. As the realization of his words sank in, Goku stammered, "I...I ought to take this tray back down to the kitchen."  
  
Sanzo batted his hand away when he tried to take the tray. "Close the window first. I'm cold."  
  
***  
  
Notes to reviewers:  
  
Bakasaru Boi: *grin* You make me happy, buddy! Don't faint now. Hee, thanks for reviewing as much as you did - it was cool that you took so much time to do that for me.  
  
Merf: Well, I'm glad people are thinking along the same lines as I am - means I'm working realistically ^.^ Zenon and Shien...well, I have no room in here for them. Plus, for some reason I have an intensely hard time getting a good grip on their characters beyond the role of "Homura's Lackey #1" and such. One of them may make a cameo as a defense attorney, perhaps.  
  
Drelfinya: Gojyo was a whore ever since his teen years, working for food and a place to sleep and stealing what pocket change he could to buy clothes. Private investigator, nothing ^.^ That would have been pretty interesting, but totally detrimental to my original plot. Hee, but that kinda gives me ideas for later fics...  
  
Hanae da Firefly: The Red String is a Japanese tradition (idiom?) where the two people who are destined to be together for life (or some other romantic mumbo jumbo) are tied together by a red string attached to their fifth fingers. Note episode 15/16 (not sure which) in which Gojyo holds up his fifth finger to verify that when Gonou talks about Kanan, he's talking about his koi (beloved).   
  
345: Hopefully this chapter cleared up your questions about Sanzo's opinions on Gonou and Gojyo ^.^ Gojyo is disappearing = dropping from the radar = won't be appearing until the end of this fic. He's leaving Gonou's life while the "Homura fiasco" blows over.  
  
Keistje: Hee, I'm glad you finally found an AU fic to your liking - I'm trying to keep this as close to canon as possible. Although Sanzo in only a pair of tight jeans is rather scintillating, it's not too logical seeing as he'd be leaning out the window into a snow-filled night. There's a line in that paragraph talking about him being in one of Gonou's old sweaters - go back and look for it, I swear it's there. Hope you enjoyed this little bit of 39 bonding ^.^ 


	9. Snapshots and Conversations

A/N: Hello everybody. Gotta love RL taking up all my time ^.^  
  
This and the other two final chapters of E&A are all going to be a bit of a departure from the style the rest of it's been written in. This chapter consists of a snapshot, a conversation, a snapshot, and another conversation. To clear up any potential confusion, the scenes involve, in order, Gojyo, Gonou and Kanan, Sanzo and Goku, Kougaiji and Dokugakuji.   
  
Enjoy - notes to reviewers at the end ^.^  
  
***  
  
An apartment with two windows. Not much of a view, but two windows nonetheless. There's a radiator, and a small kitchen, and a bathroom. The walls are white like well-used carpeting, and the carpets are darker. The kitchen is tiled in dull yellow, the linoleum is tan, the stove is brown, and the sink matches the walls. There is a refrigerator, a toaster, a microwave. On the refrigerator is a bare, black magnet pinning a sheet of paper down. The numbers of pizza delivery, Chinese takeout, liquor stores. Open the carpet-colored cabinets and there stands, neatly arrayed, enough cookware and flatware and silverware for six dinners that require any form of forethought. There is hot water if one is willing to wait for it. The shower is a little faster. The bathroom matches the kitchen but there are mirrors on the cabinets. The shower is a tub secluded by a pale yellow plastic curtain with a rather pathetic flower print. It hides a bottle of all-purpose shampoo, a can of shaving cream, a plastic razor. There is a small spiderweb of cracks growing from the bottom left of one of the two cabinet mirrors. There is already a new toothbrush, clean and dry, laid by the sink next to a bar of soap and a tube of toothpaste. Other amenities hide inside the cabinets. One of the fluorescent lights is already flickering. There are two lamps in the bedroom, two lamps in the den, overhead fluorescents in the kitchen. There are two beds. The most obvious designates the bedroom, a full-size with white sheets, a yellow blanket, a white down comforter. The metal frame is flanked by two small bedside tables that house the lamps, an alarm clock, two room keys, a telephone. The bedroom window looks across the street into a parking lot backlit by a billboard that changes its logo every two weeks. There are blinds and heavy, yellow drapes. When they are drawn, the sunlight sickens into yellow-gray. The other window is in the den, and it provides a view of bricks and crumbling mortar. But if one puts one's head out, fresh air floods the alley and it is possible to see an area of green marred only periodically by white. Mansions taunting the tenant, sitting so far away but still in view out the tiny window. By that window is a chair, and a sofa, both tan and yellow. The sofa folds out into a bed with a screech of rebelling metal, sporting white sheets. There is a low table and a set of four coasters set in the middle of it. There is a linen closet with two sets of sheets and an extra blanket. There are two towels. There is an empty chest of drawers and a small closet with twelve metal hangers.  
  
The door squeaks when it is opened, and swings back too fast for comfort, slamming into the wall. As the smell of smoke seeps into the room and the trapped air absorbs the grease of outside, a soft murmur echoes off the walls.  
  
"Home, sweet home."  
  
*  
  
"Hey, there."  
  
"How's the tutoring doing?"  
  
"Really well. You know, I think I ought to go out and get Hakuryuu some more food."  
  
"He can survive on ham. What are you cooking?"  
  
"A little pasta. He'll get fat on ham."  
  
"That's not a bad thing. Oh, that smells good, Gonou."  
  
"Thank you. Are you alright?"  
  
"Just tired, that's all. I'm glad to be home."  
  
"Mm. I'm glad you're home, too. But you know..."  
  
"What? Hey, careful, it's boiling over!"  
  
"So it is. Kanan, take the car."  
  
"I can't do that! What would you do?"  
  
"Walking is good for a body. I know you'd be a lot less tired if you didn't have to run to the bus every day. Not to mention ride the thing. And it would be a lot easier for you to go on those spontaneous errands that occur to you from time to time."  
  
"You make it sound like I'm crazy."  
  
"That's not a bad thing. More salt. Hey, would you look in the fridge and see if we've got tomatoes?"  
  
"You know we don't have tomatoes."  
  
"You could have taken the car and gotten some today."  
  
"Gonou!"  
  
"Just a thought. You go and sit down; I'm almost done."  
  
"Tell me about your day."  
  
"They took Homura out. Ouch! Hakuryuu!"  
  
"He likes being an obstacle, doesn't he? Keep your eyes on your feet. So where is Homura now?"  
  
"Prison? I don't know. I was told it would be better to hold him in custody before the trial so he couldn't run away or anything."  
  
"Excuse me."  
  
"I thought I asked you to sit down! Go on, I can set the table myself."  
  
"So helpful. I'll just take Hakuryuu."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"How's Sanzo? And that cute little Goku?"  
  
"Fine, I suppose. They get on well enough. You know, I make enough money for gas and then some. You really ought to consider taking the car instead of the bus. It'd save on fare."  
  
"Gonou, I promise I'll...think about it."  
  
"You do that. Mm, pasta's done."  
  
"It looks good."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
*  
  
A bedroom with two windows. And a fantastic view. Snow-covered greens and the glittering of a city in the distance. Half the sky opening up just for those two windows, both facing the same direction because there is no need to look anywhere else. A heavy, beautiful desk, varnished to gleaming perfection with a thin layer of dust broken only by an unopened laptop and the rectangular outline of an object removed some time before. A computer chair with armrests and gray cushions and an adjustable seat. A floor lamp with a light gray shade. A tray of dirty plates on the pristine carpet, gleaming brightly in the light, polished just like everything else. A bedside table with another light, an alarm clock, a telephone. The wood of the table matches the desk. The light matches the lamp. The telephone matches the alarm clock. The walls match the floor. There is a large closet that houses a chest of drawers and a few suits, a black leather jacket, six sets of school uniforms. Polished shoes, sneakers, house slippers litter the bottom of the closet. In the space under the bed, there are two shoeboxes. One is full of cigarettes and a month-old can of beer that will ever lay untouched. The other is never opened. They are protected from the world by a queen-size bed, outfitted with blindingly white sheets, a pale blue blanket, a gray down comforter. The windows are closed, the blinds drawn and cutting the moonlight that is further drowned by the lamp. The air smells of garlic from the food, and something a little less tangible.  
  
The soft sound of serendipity echoes in two sets of ears. There is a moment best known as "Oh." The smell of garlic permeates the room and water condenses on the windows. Home, sweet home.  
  
Or a reasonable facsimile.   
  
*  
  
"Got another letter."  
  
"What's it say, Kou?"  
  
"I could be going in deep. Where's Lirin?"  
  
"With Yaone. Deep how?"  
  
"Where's Yaone? Don't say with Lirin."  
  
"Getting food. Deep how?"  
  
"I feel sick, Doku. I do. You know I visited my mother today?"  
  
"Lirin told me."  
  
"No change. But there's this new treatment."  
  
"That we can't afford."  
  
"I know that. She was beautiful, laying there. She didn't open her eyes. I wanted her to look at me, but she just wouldn't."  
  
"No change."  
  
"She was beautiful. There's this new treatment that can make her better."  
  
"Like how? Is it expensive?"  
  
"Yes. But you know. Gyokumen can pay for it. All of it."  
  
"If you're her errand boy. I can't believe she's Lirin's mother. They're so different."  
  
"They're both manipulative. They're prone to temper tantrums. She's her mother's daughter."  
  
"What's the letter say?"  
  
"Exactly what she wants me to get. Read it."  
  
"Oh. Oh, Kou..."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"I hear someone coming back."  
  
"Could be Lirin and Yaone."  
  
"Are you hungry?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Kou, you can't do this."  
  
"I want her back. You couldn't understand it. She was so beautiful."  
  
"It's insane."  
  
"She'll pay for the bills, Doku. Do you think I've got a choice? I'm not watching her die, damn it! I'm not going to watch her die when I could do something for it. Miracles take crazy people."  
  
"You're going to get the shit beat out of you."  
  
"It's worth it."  
  
"I wonder if they remembered the tomatoes. They should be back by now."  
  
"Whose money are they spending? I hate tomatoes."  
  
"You're crazy."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"No, you're not crazy. You can't do this."  
  
"Watch me."  
  
"Kou."  
  
"What?"  
  
"What you bring upon yourself, you bring upon the house. Don't screw it up."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
***  
  
Notes:  
  
Keistje: Of *course* I mention you ^.^ Well I suppose the wording of that was confusing and the barebacked Sanzo is definitely an easier mental picture to conjure, but he -is- in a sweater ^.^ SanzoxGonou isn't really a relationship. There's hints at it, yes, but I'm not exploring that possibility here. It's been a while since I've seen some good 39 and I'm definitely a major advocate of that pairing, so Gonou's gonna have to make do without Sanzo ^.^  
  
Bakasaru Boi: Geez, you got that song in my head! Well I'm glad it was Sanzoish - it's so hard to write those scenes. (As you can see, in this chapter I got lazy and jumped to the point!)   
  
Ethereal-tenshi: Gojyo's squealing was his telling Candy about the incident in the first place. After Gonou told him, he relayed the story right down the line. He's testifying just to help describe what he saw on Gonou and Sanzo when they first got to the house, and so he can be in the same room with Gonou again on the court date ^.-  
  
Merf: Thanks - I did have fun writing chapter 8, because 39 is painfully sweet stuff. I'm glad I was up to par.  
  
Hanae: Eh, a casual reference to one's culture may be confusing for someone on the outside ^.- As to my paragraphing, it doesn't suck according to my school's rules of grammar, *plus* it's said that if there are more spaces between lines of text or notes, the brain is more likely to remember what the eyes read. It makes the experience easier than trying to focus on one line surrounded by two others of text as opposed to having a little more space. I prefer the look of it ^.^  
  
Gallatica: Hello, I updated! Lol it's okay you took a break from reviewing - I know how RL can be. . Sorry this chappie took so long. I'm glad I'm doing Goku well - I always seem to have a hard time portraying his character.  
  
345: Warmer, warmer, hot! I thought I'd leave them on a good note for now ^.^ Gojyo and Gonou you'll just have to wait for, and the same goes for Kanan. I promise it'll be interesting. 


	10. Nightly News

A/N: Hello, folks. Another unorthodox chapter, so forgive the shortness. Hee. Yes, the Sanbutsushin are news anchors. Woo!  
  
Notes to reviewers at the end ^.^  
  
***  
  
"Good evening and welcome to the nightly news." The anchors have no need of introducing themselves, but speak blankly into the camera, talking heads blaring from a flashing box.   
  
"In local news tonight, a man is being accused of assaulting two boys after having stalked them for some time. The defendant, thirty-five year old Taishi Homura, has no had any prior criminal activity but has been cited as 'unstable.'" Thirty-five year old Taishi Homura stares out of the glare, patchwork eyes blurred at the edges in court artist rendering. The close-up of the defendant is switched for the backs of three heads, one brilliant blonde and two brunettes. Unseen, the anchor's voice drones on. "The prosecuting party has asked to remain anonymous and will not release any statements to the press."  
  
"I don't blame them." The anchors' faces return. The drowse-eyed woman says this with soft concern on her face. The bearer of the news nods solemnly, his gray brow furrowing over his eyes. The drowse-eyed woman, in a manner characteristic of those trying to hold an attention-deficit audience, changes the subject. "In other news, local police departments are baffled by the unusual behavior of gangs in the area. Vandalism and property damage has virtually vanished, and there have been no reports of shootings or feuds for nearly a month. Also, gang leaders have come together, concentrating their people in one area, and there have yet to be any major brawls. The cause for this is as of yet unknown."  
  
"And now we have a traffic report."  
  
The screen flickers, green lines snaking down a tan background, flaring aching red in some places where they meet. The face of a handsome woman appears in the lower corner of the screen. "Traffic is moving well tonight, except at the junction of the forty-five and the six. There have been two crashes and the highway patrol is in the process of cleanup, so a couple of lanes are closed. Also, getting into the downtown area is going to be an ordeal tonight as The Emerson Band is playing at Java Joe's. The sold-out show has taken parking for five city blocks, and when the show lets out the jam will get worse."  
  
The face disappears, and the green snakes recede. Another face takes her place, the familiar and elegant man with a heavy brow and well-groomed gray hair. "Thank you. We'll have more stories after the break."  
  
Bright, frightening, perpetual smiles. Teeth whitening paste. When your mouth shines, the world loves you. Smile, beautiful, but only if you're beautiful.  
  
Smoky, blue eyes. Mascara. Bat your lashes and he'll love you. But only if you use this brand and avoid gluing your eyes closed when you wink.  
  
Yes, yes, yes! Shampoo. It's so good, it's better than loving. What else could anybody ever need?  
  
A familiar logo, familiar faces. From a handsome mouth comes a worn greeting. "Welcome back to the nightly news. This morning the body of a woman was found in an alley downtown. Police speculate her car broke down sometime last night, and she tried to fix it herself. An autopsy has yet to be scheduled, but inspection of the body shows signs of strangulation, beating, and brutal rape. The car was unregistered, but an inspection of it uncovered her wallet, left untouched, and several testaments to her identification. The police are searching for suspects in the rape and murder of one Cho Kanan. If any of our viewers have any information on the persons involved, you are encouraged to notify police immediately." A number flashes in bright symbols on the screen, the only cut from the anchor's face since he began his monologue.  
  
...Click...  
  
Darkness, and a strangled scream.  
  
***  
  
Notes: Ha, you hate me for -that- one, don't you?  
  
Everybody who read "Garlic" - I'm glad you enjoyed it ^.^ I had a lot of fun writing it, and may do a few other E&A-type one-shots should the mood strike.  
  
Keistje - Dirty you are not, for I meant it that way ^.^ And yeah, I realized that my powers of description are sort of lacking when it comes to names. I really enjoyed writing chapter 9 because it was so different. I really got to think differently. I'm glad it didn't tire anybody out.  
  
Ethereal-tenshi - You didn't sound harsh at all. No worries ^.^ The descriptions are of Gojyo's apartment and Sanzo's bedroom. The conversations are between Gonou+Kanan and Kougaiji+Doku. Sorry if it was confusing. RL = Real Life. Lol Reload isn't a long enough word to be acronym-ized!  
  
Gallatica - Thanks for kicking me ^.^ I wrote the garlic scene, as I know you've read. Hope I lived up to your imagination.  
  
345 - Kougaiji might get his own sequel. What do you think? I'm ending E&A on the next chapter, but there's room...  
  
Merf - see above ^.- I'm lazy. I haven't even really decided what it is Kougaiji would do. *ponders* Oh, and I'm glad I filled the 39 quota - too often it's unbearably fluffy (Like "I love you forever, Goku!!" coming out of Sanzo's mouth is -so- plausible...) so most days I go unfulfilled...^.^  
  
Fatalis - Plot? What plot? Lol there really wasn't one from the start...I just bang things out as they go. And, well, in the -first- chapter I just said that I was *deciding* on pairings. Heh. I decided later on. 58 and 39, hoo-ray!  
  
Bakasaru Boi - *imagines you glomping her fic* Now -that- is a mental image. *fic squees happily* Yes, cliffhangers are evil. But as you can see, I'm rather attached to them. Heeh. 


	11. Hello Apartment

A/N: This is it. It's done. Over. ENDED. Eights and Aces is, as of now, complete.  
  
However...there is a sequel coming up. ^.^ And various one-shots as well. Be on the lookout for one involving Gonou and Gojyo after the events stated herein. I rather like this universe ^.^  
  
Notes to reviewers at the end...and this is solely from Gojyo's PoV.  
  
Thanks to everybody who reviewed, it helps me write and makes me a -very- happy Karot. I owe you all ^.^ Enjoy this final installment, but rest assured there -will- be more.  
  
The one-shots that come after this fic are as follows (in chronological order): Two Steps Back, Gin, Chocolate Ears, Sleeping Alone, and Meetings. Blackjack starts between Sleeping Alone and Meetings, and Garlic occurred a few chapters back ^.^  
  
***  
  
Hello, apartment. I shrug my jacket off, dropping my keys and wallet on the entry table. It's warming up, for the first time all winter. Which means the slush on the ground has soaked up my jeans to the knees. With one more backward glance at the door, making sure the lock and chain are secure - don't call me paranoid - I kick off my shoes and pants, content to hang out in my skivvies. I pay for heat, don't I?  
  
Well, not really. Not yet. But in a few months, when I have enough saved up to both eat and pay the bills, I will. Until then, I'm on Candy's dime. It's really made me frugal. She pays my expenses that aren't food or little luxuries, and I call her once a week for a little check-up. It's strange, how amicable she is about the whole thing. Like there's a Good Samaritan inside her she's got to please every once in a while. Or maybe just an overdeveloped sense of responsibility. I didn't really do her wrong - I just never did her right.  
  
I light a cigarette. It's late. It's so Goddamn' late and I haven't eaten since I shoved that burrito down in the half-hour I get to eat dinner. At five in the evening. Who the hell eats dinner that early? Through the smoke of the cigarette I can see the clock on the microwave. One-thirty. I got off early.   
  
Not that I mind working in a casino. Oh, no. It's great. I get a uniform, a nametag, a paycheck, free meals, and all the cocktail waitresses I can watch. I won't ask how Candy did it, but she got me promoted from Janitorial Assistant to Blackjack Dealer with one phone call. That's where the spiffed-out clothes come in. Me and my black slacks, my red vest, my shiny gold nametag, and my white shirts starched by the casino's maids. They're like wearing cardboard, but it's -nice- cardboard. 'Course, I've got to leave everything there, because the boss'd have my head if I rumpled 'em up and tossed 'em on the ground. I look back to the sodden lump of my pants and grin a little. They'll crunch in the morning.  
  
I let my hair down - did I mention they want me to cut it off? - and lean back, staring at the ceiling. I haven't eaten in eight hours. I should be starving. I'm not cutting my Goddamn' hair.  
  
There's this one waitress I watch every night. They've all got to wear white shirts and red vests and shiny gold nametags, but the shirts don't have buttons whatsoever and somebody skimped on the fabric budget for those vests. Don't get me started on those little black skirts. Or the boots, dear God, the boots. It's all a man can do to concentrate on making sure the House always wins. But there's this one who works the tables near me, with dark blonde hair and soft green eyes and a sweet smile. I think her name's Reno. Or it could be where she's from. But she smiles at everybody, so when she smiles at me it shouldn't be a big deal.   
  
Yet sometimes things like that mean more than you'd think. She wears three earrings in each ear and her bellybutton's pierced. On Saturdays she's got the casino's logo in rhinestones dangling down there. That burrito was damn' small.  
  
I get up, socked feet slipping on tile floor, and rummage through the fridge. Yum, cold takeout. Is it obvious I'm really trying to watch my figure? I saw love-handles in the mirror yesterday, freaked the hell out of me. Like I should really be worried about it. Maybe I'll get a salad or something tomorrow. Maybe not. I feel kind of guilty wasting water on washing dishes, so I nuke the wonton soup and drink it from the cup. I tip the ash from my cigarette into the sink and shove it in my mouth, crossing to the doorway to grab my pants and hang them on the coatrack so they'll be some semblance of dry by the next time I've got to go out. I don't have to be at work until two, and even then the going's slow until maybe nine. Nobody's much in the mood to play Blackjack until they're good and drunk and reckless. Maybe I'll talk to Reno a little tomorrow, when the going's slow.  
  
The phone's ringing. I go into the bedroom, plop down on the bed, take a swig of soup, and shove the receiver against my ear.  
  
"'Lo?" It's Gonou. God, Gonou, it's been a long time.  
  
I let him talk. And I let him talk some more. And I stop dead.  
  
"Do you want me to come over?" Was that ever a stupid question, Gojyo. "Okay. Yes. Gonou..." He cuts me off, and I nod like he could possibly see me. "Have you called anyone else?" Just me. I was the first. Oh, Gonou. He signs off and hangs up, leaving me with an empty silence and a hot cup of leftover soup I can't stomach anymore. I hang up and scribble Gonou's words on a nearby napkin, stare at the note, and pull at my hair so hard my eyes tear.  
  
There is something hot and heavy in the back of my throat. I swallow hard. They want me to cut off my Goddamn' hair. God, Gonou, it's been so long. There's no way in hell I can afford a black suit. I'm the first person he called. Where did he get my number? I'll get to see him again. I've got to be at work by two. I'm so insensitive. God, Gonou, it's been a hell of a long time without you.  
  
***  
  
Notes: Bwahahaha.  
  
Ethereal-tenshi: You guessed it. It had to happen, and there it went!  
  
Keistje: Don't worry - I never took offense or anything. Hee, I describe stuff but my powers of *denotation* are what really need to be worked on. I'm glad you liked my commercials - they were a fun little bout of sociopolitical commentary I'd been turning over in the background of my brain for a while. Hooray for random manifestations.   
  
Merf: You're right - the Sanbutsushin just kind of struck me as news anchors. ^.^ This is the end of E&A, but I am working on a Kougaiji-centric sequel. So, to answer your question about Hyakugan Maoh...you're just gonna have to wait ! Haha I so evil.  
  
Bakasaru Boi: I can do -many- things. For my fics are indellible! Gwar! Hee, I -promise- there's more. But E&A had to end here because the rest doesn't center on Gonou and Gojyo. Or even much of Sanzo and Goku. E-hee.  
  
Fortunata: Augh! Don't kill me! *snif* Sorry I'm such an idiot. But hey, I waited till it showed up and have now fixed the notes! Wholesome? In=nteresting adjective. Chapters 9-11 were all experimental for me - glad you weren't turned off.  
  
Mei Yanohi: Aw, thanks! I think my favorite interactions to write were Gojyo-and-Gonou, Sanzo-and-Goku, and Goyjo-and-Candy. That's in no particular order ^.- And thanks for the compliment about my consistency - these be my babies! 


End file.
